WAYSIDE LEAVES 



BY 



y 



/ 



J^^^LUELLA DOWD ^TVuJ;^ 



INSCRIBED TO HIM WHO THROUGH THE LIGHTS AND 

SHADOWS OF FOUR HAPPY YEARS HAS 

WALKED THE WAY WITH ME 



G. P 



NEW YORK 

PUTNAM'S SONS 
182 Fifth Avenue 
1879. 



ir 



,V/^ 1879.' o'^ 






COPYRIGHT. iSjq, BY I. 1 UEM.A DOVft). 



PREFACE. 

I have called this little book '' Wayside 
Leaves," for as one in hasty walk through a for- 
est mio-ht gather here and there a bright leaf 
from the wayside— m.ute token of the wide 
woods which it is not his to enter— so I, in the 
walks of a busy life, have gathered here and 
there a wayside dream that flitted near my path 
mute token of the better visions it is not 

mine to read. 

J. L. D. S. 



CONTENTS. 



VERSE. 

PAGE 

The Voices of the Leaves ^ 

One Leaf 4 

Madrigal of a Leaf 7 

Trailing Arbutus 

Easter Gifts 



lO 
12 



Easter Song ■ ^-^ 

" Blessed are they that Mourn." 1 7 

Three Times a Bride 20 

Wateu-Lilies 2^ 

"LuLASTi" 2^ 

Time, Change, Death 29 

Old and New 32 

The Old Year 34 

The First Line 35 

Thk Old School-house 3^ 

The Charm against Death 4o 

Little Feet 43 

Our Classmate Kittie 44 

The Choice , 45 

Our May-Bird 48 



VI CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Hope in Sorrow 51 

A Dirge 53 

In Grief 55 

Death in Life 59 

A Little Grave 61 

Blighted Buds 62 

In the Dark 64 

Rain 67 

Two Brothers 70 

The Child's Prayer 73 

The Mermaid 76 

The Reapers ... 78 

Dreams of Youth 82 

The Radical 83 

The White Veil 85 

The Legend of Pilate 91 

Angel Whispers 93 

The Ideal Life 94 

The Soul's Inheritance 95 

The Likeness of Earth 99 

The Image of God 100 

On the Heights loi 

" Give me back my Flowers ",.... 103 

" This is not your Rest " 104 

The Latest Dandelion 106 

Merry Christmas 108 

The Brooklet. Translation no 

LeONORE Ill 

The Tangled Work 114 

Sheffield Centennial Hymn 116 



CONTENTS. VU 

PAGE 

One Summer Day - ^^7 

PROSE. 

Suggestions ^^^ 

Song of the Ages ^3^ 

Heart-Pictures ^39 

The Trees and the Wind ^44 

The Artist's Dream ^4^ 

Doubters ■^'+^ 

With the Methodists ^52 

The Pathos of Common Lives 158 

One Woman's Life i^S 

Minnie's Dream ^^^ 

Building to Overthrow i93 

The Thought-Gleaners ^95 

VERSE. 

The Burning Bush 200 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. 



THE VOICE OF THE LEAVES. 

Inscribed to Jessie. 



you know what the leaves say 
As they rustle in the breeze ? 



They are talking all the day 
To the bushes and the trees. 

Shall I tell you what they said 
Unto me at break of day, 

When the eastern sky was red 
And the sunbeams woke to play ? 

'' Little child, the morn is fair, 
'Tis the dawn of happy day, 

God has given it beauty rare. 
Morning is the time to pray." 



H^A YSIDE LEA VES. 

And again at noon I heard 

A voice from the leafy tree, 
" Busy soul, another word 

While the leaves make shade for thee." 

" The noon-time is full of light. 
When God gives a perfect day. 

Remember when life is bright, 
The noon is the time to pray." 

Again at the close of day, 

I sat by the old, brown tree 
To hear what the leaves would say 

In the evening-time to me. 

" Dear heart, the shadows fall, 
And rest darkly to-night on me, 

Dark hours must come to all. 
And sorrows must come to thee." 

Little child, shadow and shine 

Make up our life's brief day. 
Remember when grief is thine. 

The night is the time to pray. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

Little child, make life a prayer, 
Whether light or dark thy way. 

Remember, God is everywhere. 
And all time is the time to pray. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



ONE LEAF. 




HALF year gone when Spring was bright 

A leaf awakened to the light, 
The zephyrs rocked its tender bed, 
With dewy nectar it was fed. 



'Twas painted by the thousand rays 
Of suns that shone through many days. 
It did its work till day by day 
Its tints grew rich and bright and gay. 

Of all the sunshine and the frost 
Not one small ray or touch was lost. 
In perfect work they all had share, 
The sun, the rains, the frosty air. 

What came at last when all was done 
And work complete of rain and sun ? 
Why then, a passing, careless tread 
That left the leaflet crushed and dead. 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. 

Yet other leaves than this less fair 
Have crowned the gentle maiden's hair ; 
Have safe been kept from touch of ill 
And have their gayest colors still. 

Why is injustice done like this ? 
Why can so royal leaf thus miss 
The crown of honor given away 
To those who worked but one brief day ? 

Ah ! tell me this, and thou shalt know 
The rule of all things here below, 
Know why so soon the weary feet 
Have left their labor incomplete. 

Know why the brightest glories fade, 
Know why the early graves are made. 
Know why the world by touch of sin 
Is made so dark and sad within! 

Poor souls there are that seem to miss 
Life's dower of glory and of bliss, 
The world goes on with cruel tread 
That leaves the joy within them, dead. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

Sad leaf ! thou art of them the sign ; 
Thou wilt not taste again life's wine ; 
Yet, broken, dimmed and tempest-tossed — 
Who dares to say thy life is lost ! 

Know thou some life that seemeth loss, 
Some heart that broke beneath the cross, 
Has in the seeming failure won 
And will not miss the Christ's " Well-done.' 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



MADRIGAL OF A LEAF. 

y work is done and I depart 
From a world I love so well. 



The chilling frost has touched my heart 
With a pain I cannot tell. 

The tree has need of me no more ; 

I was his life in a summer-day ; 
My working time for him is o'er, 

My work is done, I may not stay. 

Oh, I brought music and beauty and life ! 

And gave them all fully and free ; 
And all of my pride, my envy and strife, 

Were to gladden the heart of my tree. 

I am needed no more, I am needed no more ! 

In my death-robes of splendor all dressed, 
I go with a heart that is burdened and sore 

Yet my work I have done for the best. 



8 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

I labored and toiled not in vain, 
I did my work well and with glee ; 

I gathered the sunshine and rain, 
And gave them as life to my tree. 

In serving so well, I grew bright, 
The sunshine abides in my face ; 

I have treasured the heavenly light, 
Yet I go from my ancient place. 

I go, and I go to die. 

My gold will turn into brown ; 
What wonder my heart will cry 

As, torn from my tree, I go down ! 

Yet ah ! I am yet a lover so true. 

If my death will but help my dear tree ! 

And bless his glad life with joys that are new, 
I am willing for this not to be. 

Content to float thus on the air, 
And rest on the ground so cold, 

Content to no longer be fair. 

Content to grow withered and old, 



IVA YSIDE LEA VES. 

Content though no notice is taken, 

Though never he knows, or his eye may see ; 

Though forever I'm lost and forsaken, 

Content to have Hved and to die for my tree. 

As I served in my life, I will serve in my death, 
Contented with life and with death I will be ; 

I will tell of his love with my latest breath, 
I have lived, what can I but die for my tree ! 

But the tree listened not to a word ! 

He was watching the sky afar ; 
His heart would not hear what he heard, 

His heart was adoring a star. 

He knew not his beauty was lost 

When his one true love he had banished ; 

He felt not the chill of the frost. 

Yet the grace of his life had vanished. 

When the star was faded, he sought the leaf. 

It lay dead and brown at his feet, 
He grieved, but his grief, like his love, was brief — 

Yet his life — it is incomplete. 



10 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



TRAILING ARBUTUS. 

HE winter had leaflets sere 
Beneath the white realm of the snow ; 



m. 



His brow with the look severe, 
Affrighted the buds below. 

They nestled under the sod 
Awaiting the gift of God. 

His gift ! It is theirs to-day, 

Spring voices have called them to light, 
Where the winds in the forest play 
And scatter the sunbeams bright, 
They blossom and shine 
With beauty divine. 

A lesson for thee, sad heart, 

Who watching thy dead to-day, 
Canst take to thyself no part 
Of the joy of the Easter lay. 
Too faintly this time 
Comes the Easter chime. 



IVA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 1 

The winter of earth lieth chill, 

The shadows fall deeply and drear ; 
Brave hearts in the grave are so still 
That friends can but offer a tear. 
Our loved ones under the sod 
Are waiting the gift of God. 

His gift ! It will come last, 

In the glad and eternal spring. 
When the night of earth's winter is past, 
The Immortals in joy sliall sing : 
They will meet and give praise 
To the Maker of days. 

And canst thou not trust, sad heart, 

In the light of the blossoming spring, 
When Nature herself takes part 
In the Easter offering ! 

All earthly bloom is given 
To lead thy heart to Heaven. 



12 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 




EASTER GIFTS. 

HAT are thy Easter gifts, O Earth ! 
On this Resurrection dav ? 



Bring treasure rare of greatest worth 
For the doom has passed away. 

Bring the emblems of life evermore, 
For the conqueror, Death, is slain ; 

For the grave has an open door 

Where the Christ, the Lord, hath lain. 

Bring flowers that rise from the sod, 
They fill the earth with their grace. 

They teach us the thought of God 
Till our world is a holy place. 

Bring promise of doing thy best 

In the march toward the good and the true, 
Be strong and fail not at the test, 

Though thy friends and thy helpers be few. 



M^A YSIDE LEA VES. 1 3 

Bring music that rolls through the spheres, 
Keeping time to the march of the right ; 

Bring songs that resound through the years, 
Bring armor by struggle kept bright. 

Bring light shining back to the sun, 
And filling the worlds with its power. 

Oh, bright is the way thou mayst run, 
And glory may be thy dower ! 

Bring love for the Giver of love, 
Who removeth the curse of thy sin, 

The star of the morn is above, 
He makes the new cycles begin. 

Bring prayers unto Heaven's high gate, 

Of penitence, gratitude, peace ; 
Not long wilt thou have to wait 

Ere the wars of thy children cease. 

O, happy earth, to be so great, 

I greet thee on thy better way, 
And know thee grateful, glad, elate 

With promises of Easter day ! 



14 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



EASTER SONG. 

Inscribed to Vienna. 

HE spring has come with its fairer days, 
The sun-bright hours are here. 



Voices of gladness and hymns of praise 
Sound forth in the bright, glad year. 
Wearily, drearily, 
Mourning your dead, 

Hear the glad Easter-song, 
You shall be comforted, 

Though the way seemeth long. 
When walked wearily. 

The shadow is dark across your door, 

And you are sad to-day, 
You miss the voice you can hear no more, 

The loved one who could not stay. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 5 

Wearily, wearily, 
Mourning your dead ; 

Your tears dim the sunlight, 
Through the shades you are led, 
Till the day seemeth night 
Grown dark drearily. 

'Tis Easter-time^ and the flowers are grown bright, 

They have glad thoughts for you, 
As from the earth they arise to the light, 
And their tears are the morning dew. 
Can you weep wearily, 
Mourning the fall, 

When the bright, bright spring days 
Bring a new life unto all ! 
And the world's voices raise 
God's praise, thankfully ? 

O, richer the skies that smile above you ! 

And richer your life has grown, 
Since you have a mother in Heaven to love you, 

Think of her there before God's Throne, 



1 6 IVA YSIDE LEA VES. 

There, where never comes night, 

Where all tears are wiped away, 
There in the Heavenly light 
Of one bright, Eternal Day. 
A little while more to work and to wait, 
Ere you meet her there at the Golden Gate ! 
Thankfully, thankfully, 

Looking above, 
Hear the glad Easter-song, 
Telling of Love. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. IJ 



BLESSED ARE THEY THAT MOURN. 




FRIENDS ! who sit in lonely rooms to-night, 
And cannot see for tear-dimmed eyes, 



The undimmed brightness of the Easter light, 
The glory of the Easter skies. 

You, whose it is to wait and watch and wait. 
And know to watch and wait are vain ; 

Who tremble, listening for the opening gate 
That closing, shuts out Hope again. 

And you, with all the joyous world shut out, 
And all the world of grief shut in ; 

Whom Sorrow drives despairingly to Doubt, 
And Doubt drives wretchedly to Sin. 

And you who fill life full of noble deeds, 
Because life's dearest dreams are o'er ; 

Who say for Rosary as one counts his beads, 
The names of those who come no more. 



1 8 WAYSIDE LEAVES. 

All you who mourn ; with you we mingle tears, 
For you we weep ; for you we pray ; 

We look for light across your weary years, 
A time when darkness turns to day. 

Almost we see their beckoning hands who play 
Heaven's golden harp-strings, and who wait 

Their sweetest songs of praise the while they pray 
You may not miss the Golden Gate. 

Surely they watch you with their loving eyes- 
Heaven teaches them the truest love, 

And looking downward from the deep of skies. 
They teach your eyes to look above. 

Oh ! often you have prayed that God would bless 
These loved ones now beyond your care. 

In giving them. His perfect happiness. 
He gave the answer to your prayer. 

It was not what you sought or dared to name, 
'Twas more than you can know or think ; 

Would you withhold their good because it came 
With bitter cup for you to drink ? 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. 1 9 

For you, as well, it is a blessing given, 

And you will see it so at last. 
When you with wiser eyes can look from heaven 

Over the annals of your Past. 

Till then, God comfort you, and gently lead 
You through life's lonely, darkened way ; 

Teach you to trust, give answer to your need 
And guide you to Eternal Day. 



20 IV A YSIDE LEA VES. 



THREE TIMES A BRIDE. 




NCE when bloomed the buds of May 
\ And the minstrels marked the hours. 
Came a happy bridal day 

'Midst the music and the flowers. 
Brave the lover was and strong, 

Rosy-cheeked the bride and fair, 
Lightly joined we in the song, 

Smiled among the smiling there. 
Only happiness and gain we named 
When the human love our treasure claimed. 

Once when fell the buds of May 

And the death-watch marked the hours, 
Came another bridal day 

'Midst the dirges and the flowers. 
Stern the lover was and strong, 

Fair the bride and cold as fair, 
Joined we in the funeral song. 

Wept among the weepers there, 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. 21 

Only wretchedness and loss we named 
When the lover, Death, our treasure claimed. 

Once, where is Eternal May 

And one cannot mark the hours, 
There began a bridal day 

'Midst the music and the flowers. 
Can we name the Lover's Strength ? 

Do we know the bride is fair ? 
We that smiled and wept — at length 

May we hope to meet her there ? 
Not a word of joy or grief we named 
When the Love Divine our treasure claimed. 



22 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



WATER LILIES. 

URE as the morning, out of the slime, 
Rising white petals above, 



Spotlessly fair in a world of crime, 
Telling us ever of love. 
Out of the slime 
Bringing the pure, 
Out of the crime 
Bringing its cure. 

Lilies, fair lilies, speak to my heart 

Showing the hope for us all. 
Still in the world the Holy has part. 
Not all bears taint of the Fall. 
Up from the mud, 
Springing serene, 
Blossom and bud 
A lesson mean — 



IF A YSIDE LEA VES. 23 

A lesson for you and for me, my friend, 

For we weary oft in life, 
And we wearily ask to what end 
We bear the toil and the strife. 
An answer read 
From petals fair, 
The earth hath need 
Of beauty there. 

Up from the blackness, riseth the fair, 

Lovingly watching the sun. 
Of the world's evil no trace is there, 
The perfect on earth is won. 
May ever greet 
Thee — Lilies' breath, 
So wondrous sweet, 
It conquers death. 

Have you not seen the Lilies in life. 

With the meek eyes that looked up ? 
Who ever peaceful amidst the strife 
Deeply drank life's bitter cup ? 



24 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

Pure amidst sin, 
Strong in the right — 
In the earth's din, 
Angels of light ! 

Humble their homes and lowly their guise, 

Rarely we know richness there, 
Till heavenly glimpses open our eyes 
To see the fairest of fair. 
Only when breath 
Comes hard and slow, 
Only in Death, 
Lilies we know. 

Then we fill all the air with our cries, 

Perceiving the good too late. 
Sad by our loss when the spirit flies 
To learn our treasure was great ! 

Lilies too late 

We learn to love. 

When opes the gate 

Of worlds above. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 2$ 

Human Lilies in the midst of sin 

Have been untouched by ill, 
And human voices with earth's din 
Have mingled music still. 
Answer to doubt 
In life is given, 
Not quite shut out 
Is earth from Heaven, 

Thanks be to God for these better lives 

That will not have part in vice, 
Thanks be to God that for him who strives 
Are glimpses of Paradise. 

Through grief they rise 
By graveyard sod ; 
The trustful eyes — 
Lilies of God. 



26 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

" LULASTI." 

Class Motto ; " Let us live as seeing the Invisible." 

" f^^LL true shall be our lives and grand," 
^^M High on the mount just then we stood, 
For strong was our unbroken band 
To conquer ill and aid the good. 
That night arrayed 
In spotless white, 
A vow we made 
To serve the right. 



'&' 



Was trembling felt at parting words ? 
We did not know the time so long. 
Now all our hopes — gay, singing birds- 
Make minor music in their song. 
So long, so long, 
The weary years ! 
So filled with wrong 
And doubts and fears ! 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 2^ 

We saw all sure the light above, 

Nor knew our hopes were built on sand, 
Nor thought how weak is human love 
While held so firm each clasping hand. 
Death's hand between 
Is icy cold. 

Through meadows green 
The Styx has rolled. 

Tarnished on earth are robes of white, 

Only in Heaven no mar is seen. 
One walketh there in realms of light 
By waters still and pastures green. 
Through the portal 
Of Death she trod, 
To the immortal 
City of God. 

Our weary hands the burden bear. 

The burden and the heat of day, 
We bear the sorrow and the care. 

We work and weep and wait and pray. 



28 WA YSIDE LEA VES, 

Yet not all light 
Is gone from earth, 
For in the night 
The stars have birth. 

Rejoice for haven so surely won, 

So short the cross was hers to bear ! 
Rejoice at thought of His " Well-done," 
So long the crown is hers to wear ! 
Golden the west 
At set of sun ! 
Joyful the rest 
When work is done ! 

Fair picture in our heart is set, 

That makes the world unseen our own. 
Amidst earth's discord and earth's fret 
We hear the music of the Throne. 
Dark is the way 
But light above — 
An endless day 
And lasting love ! 



^Sl 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 29 



TIME, CHANGE, DEATH. 

WOMAN sat and sighed for the past 
While the wind went whistling by ; 



She wept for the joys that would not last, 
The treasures of earth that fly. 

A beautiful girl with golden hair 
Kept watch by the frosty pane ; 

So sweet was she and exceeding fair, 
I blessed her again and again. 

Her lover passed by and looked with a smile 
That told of the hope in his heart ; 

The woman muttered *' Love for a while, 
But time will the lovers part !" 

^' For time will touch your hair with gray 
And mark you with wrinkles deep. 

And time will take your lover away 
And leave you alone to weep." 



30 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

The trusting girl but smiled all the more, 
^' He will love me best when old ; 

The treasures of love he will outpour, 
A love that is true as gold." 

Then the woman muttered, " Nay ! 

A sweeter face than is thine, 
Will draw his heart from thee away, 

When he sees how eyes can shine." 

But the loving girl smiled on the same, 
" I know his heart is so true ; 

His love is more than an empty name, 
'Tis true as the violet's blue." 

" For change cannot touch a true love. 

Such love he giveth to me, 
My heart is raised by this love above 

All evils your eyes can see." 

But the woman muttered and wept, 

'' Death comes and death will not spare, 

Think you the violet's blue is kept, 
Because it once was so rare ?" 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 3 1 

The face of the girl grew sad and white, 

Her smile was faded away, 
Yet her eyes lost not their trusting light, 

" There will come another day," 

" For death cannot harm a true love. 

He leads to another shore ; 
And dearer will be in heaven above 

The hearts that have loved before." 

The woman bowed down as if to pray, 

It may be helped by this trust, 
Some clouds of sorrow had cleared away 

From her life of ^'Dust to dust." 

In heaven the stars eternally shine, 

And all of earth's good and fair, 
And all earth's loves that are truly divine, 

In surety are garnered there. 



32 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



OLD AND NEW. 

N old friend died last night, 
Died in the midnight hour, 
The gloom shut out the light, 
Gone was the old year's might, 
Gone was the old year's power. 

A new friend came last night, 
Came in the midnight hour, 
The gloom was almost light 
Through magic of his might. 
Through magic of his power. 

Dead and under the snow 
Lieth the sad, old year, 

Fair hopes have with him died 

And many loves beside, 
Are buried with him here 
Under the snow. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 33 

Brightly dawns the glad, new year, 

A year of hope is come, 
We greet him with a smile 
Yet we must weep the while, 

For lips forever dumb 
Under the snow. 



34 ^A YSIDE LEA VES. 



THE OLD YEAR. 



F^|]E is immortal by the light 

He brought to guide our footsteps right, 



He is immortal by the love 

He brought for us from realms above. 

He is immortal by each deed 

That helped the world and met its need. 

He is immortal though he rest 

With icy hands upon his breast. 

For light and love and helpful care 
And every blessed deed and prayer 
Are thus immortal and shall shine 
Down all the ages as divine. 



WAYSIDE LEA P^ES. 35 



m 



THE FIRST LINE. 



HY loving care, thy earnest heart, 



^1 Thy work of years and what thou art 
Have helped the world — and this the sign, 
Thy first gray hair, thy first deep line. 

We love thee, dear, more truly now 
For every line that marks thy brow. 
We see in place of youthful grace 
The light divine upon thy face. 

Mourn not too much the passing hours, 
Mourn not too much the fading flowers, 
When flowers of earth have passed away 
The flowers of heaven will bloom for aye. 

Thy work shall stand and thou art blessed ; 
Beyond this life shall come thy rest, 
When for these years so quickly sped 
God gives Eternity instead. 



3^ WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. 




ERE the children met to study 
In the days gone by, 



Eyes were sparkling, cheeks were ruddy 

In the days gone by. 
Sunshine flickered through the door 
Drove the shadows from the floor 
In the days that come no more, 

In the days gone by. 

Will the roses bloom as brightly 

In the days that come ? 
Will the shadows fall as lightly 

In the days that come ? 
Gone the sunshine from the floor, 
Gone the children through the door 
That will never open more 

In the days that come. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 37 

They are scattered who were met here 

Where the roses bloom. 
Summer winds will sigh regret here 

Where the roses bloom, 
Suns will rise and suns go down, 
Kiss no more the cheek of brown, 
See no more the teacher's frown 

Where the roses bloom. 

Sad-eyed Second-sight, O ! tell me 

What will come with years ? 
Doubts and unknown griefs o'erwhelm me 

What will come with years ? 
" Only through fast falling tears, 
Dim futurity appears. 
And I see beyond thy fears 

What will come with years." 

" Some will fill their lives with beauty 

When the way is dark, 
Trust in God and do their duty 

When the way is dark 



38 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

Others look o'er lives of sin 
Where God's sunlight comes not in, 
Say too late ' It might have been,' 
When the way is dark." 

" Some the world's old wrongs are righting, 

Filling earth with good, 
Blessed ones, the blest requiting, 

Filling earth with good. 
See ! They win in life's long fight, 
Make the world more full of light 
By their conquests for the right, 

Filling earth with good." 

" Soon, life's light is dimly burning, 

Showing Death has come. 
Showing now is no returning. 

Showing Death has come. 
Cold the hands are on the breast, 
Life is done for worst or best 
And 1 cannot see the rest, 

Eternity has come." 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 39 

Sadly then the prophet left me 

Standing in the dark. 
Till a gentle voice addressed me 

Standing in the dark. 
" When the tired feet graveward creep, 
Weep not as the hopeless weep, 
God in Heaven, His own will keep 

Above Earth's dark." 



40 WA YSIDK LEA VES. 



I 



THE CHARM AGAINST DEATH. 

[An African chieftain besought Dr. Livingstone to give him 
a charm against Death.] 

HERE came a train with royal tread, 
With banners bright above their head 
The Africs saw with eager eyes 
The " charms " among the merchandise. 

At last one asked with sadder eye, 
" In your far country does one die ? 
The charm that most of all I crave, 
Is one to save us from the grave." 

The English paused. His smile had fled, 
He mourned a wife and mother dead, 
" Alas ! brave chief, no charm have I ; 
It is appointed man to die." 



H^J YSIDE LEA VES. 4 1 

The chief looked up to sunny sky, 
"What good the light if I must die ? 
I know too well no hope can be 
When faileth charm to men like thee." 

When months were gone a solemn train 
Passed by the Afric's tent again, 
"Great English dead !" the wail they cry, 
"Alas ! the English too must die." 

The chieftain gazed upon the dead, 
" I thought him Prince of Life instead, 
Alas ! alas ! The strong, the true 
Have passed away from earth with you." 

Then one replied, " We found him where 
He kneeled unto his God in prayer," 
" The charm of prayer has failed him then, 
Since he no longer walks with men." 

" Not so," the calmer voice replied, 
" Judge not of what thou hast not tried, 
Be sure for one like him who died 
A better life must be beside." 



42 WA YSIDE. LEA VES. 

" It may be with his God somewhere, 
He lives in answer to his prayer, 
The charm that seemed to fail I take 
And worship God for his dear sake." 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 43 



LITTLE FEET. 

ITTLE feet, so pure and white, 
Kissed by mother's lips to-night ! 



Can you ever, ever stray 
From the path of good away ? 
Darling one, I clasp you tight. 
Baby, baby, mine to-night. 

Little feet more cold and white 
Lie within a grave to-night. 
Evermore must mother miss 
Baby-face she used to kiss. 
Baby-feet that used to play 
Through the happy, sunny day. 

Yet, little feet, if you had lived to stray, 
'Twere sadder than to miss your step to-day. 



44 ^-i YSIDE LEA VES. 



OUR CLASSMATE KITTIE. 



JlH ! we shall miss our classmate long. 
Life seems of smaller worth, 



Since her light step and merry song 
Are so soon gone from earth. 

And yet, we trust 'tis well. To her 

Eternal life is given, 
We've one less now to love on earth, 

One more to love in heaven. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 45 



THE CHOICE. 

MOTHER sat by her child 
And watched his gentle sleep, 



Rocking the cradle, she smiled, 
Happy such watch to keep. 

An angel stood by her side, 

Holding two flowers — white and red — 
" Art thou able to guide 

And choose for the child ?'* he said. 

" Death the white ; and life the red ! 

Death hath peace but life hath strife." 
The mother smiled as she said — 

" I choose for my darling — life." 

" Nay " said the angel then — 

" Thou hast chosen the heavier cross, 
Sorrow's the lot of men 

And life may be only loss." 



46 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

The mother looked up and smiled. 

" To suffer and grow strong 
Shall be the lot of my child, 

I have not chosen wrong." 

" One thing thou dost forget " 

And the angel veiled his face, 

" Dost thou not know that yet 
Hell has on earth a place ?" 

" Hell in the form of rum 

Destroying the good and pure, 
Heaping up misery's sum 

Till only the strong endure !" 

*' Hell in the form of wine 

In the mansions of the fair ! 
The child thou callest thine 
May be sadly tempted there." 

With trembling hand and slow, 
The mother chose the white. 
*' Better to let him go 

Now to the realms of light !" 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 47 

" Nay," said the angel then, 
His life may be one blest 
In kindly deeds to men, 
If he will choose the best." 

"Take back thy flowers," the mother said, 
" I leave to God my little one, 
I choose not white, nor take I red, 
I only pray His will be done !" 



48 IVA YSIDE LEA VES. 



OUR MAY BIRD. 

Insc7'ibed to IV. P. M. G. 




NCE the earth seemed music-filled 
To our heart. 
Every bird and flower was skilled 
In its part. 

Now the world has colder grown, 

Out of tune 
With our hearts that sing alone 

Of the June. 

Baby eyes 
Looking into ours, 
Opened wide in sweet surprise, 
Closed too soon like Spring-time flowers. 
Baby eyes 
Ope no more to ours. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES, 49 

Baby hands 
Held in loving clasp ; 
Unto us a time were given , 
Given to show the way to heaven, 
Baby hands, 
Gone beyond our grasp. 

Baby May, 
Full of childish grace. 
Charmed our hearts one Summer day, 
Caught the smile from mother's face, 
Baby May ! 
Vacant is her place. 

Autumn days 
Came to us apace. 
Drearily the brown leaves fell, 
Hopes from out our heart as well ! 
Autumn days 
Left a vacant place. 

Since baby-feet the way have trod. 
More sure the road that leads to God ! 



50 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

Since her eyes see beyond our tears, 
Less dark the shadowed vale appears ! 
Since our May-bird is early blest, 
More sweet to us the promised rest ! 
The while we mourn for earth's lost June, 
We'll not forget that heaven's high noon 
Will bring for woes of time and sense, 
God's rich, unending recompense 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 5 ^ 



HOPE IN SORROW. 



00 late the wintry rain ! 
Too late the tears ! 




We may not meet again 
The vanished years. 

The sun in darkness set, 
Drear is the night, 

Too late the vain regret 
For last year's light ! 

O, weary eyes that weep, 
The old dreams fled ! 

O, weary hearts that keep 
Watch o'er your dead ! 



52 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

There are memories sweet, 
And lives of good, 

There are souls that will meet 
When understood. 

Be patient and true, 

And look above. 
There is joy for you, 

For " God is Love." 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 53 



A DIRGE. 



nil 




E come to sing a low refrain 

That bears an undertone of pain, 
For those we shall not see again. 

Some dear ones we were wont to greet, 
Whom we again may never meet, 
Their work is done and rest is sweet. 

So comes the sadness in our song. 
To sorrow without hope is wrong. 
And yet to us the way seems long. 

Yet sunshine cometh after rain ; 

And some who toiled where toil was pain 

Now bear aloft the golden grain. 



54 WA Y SID It LEA VES. 

The day shall dawn beyond the night, 
Our God will guide us each aright, 
His harvest-fields are ever white. 

We will not cherish foolish fears. 

We have no time for idle tears, 

Our lives grow richer through the years. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 5 5 



IN GRIEF. 



WALKED in the old green wood 
Where the shadows fall through the trees, 
And the sweet, low voice of the breeze 
Comes whispering " God is good." 

But never a tone I heard, 

My heart was cold and hard, 

And through the bright air jarred 
The sound of a bitter word. 

" O, wrong that never finds redress ! 

O, grief that walks with bleeding feet ! 

O, friends that part no more to meet ! 
O, hearts, God does not deign to bless !" 

'' Thou whom men trust, whom men call just, 
O, God ! that seest sin and wrong, 
And heedest not when through heaven's song 

Comes earth's sad requiem ' Dust to dust ;' " 



56 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

" Thou hast a home in heaven, they say, 

Thou wilt not let him in, 
Whose life was gone so far astray, 

Whose days were filled with sin, 

" Thou hast sweet harps in heaven, they say, 

Charms to the Holy Life, 
But he cannot be charmed away 

From hell's unholy strife. 

" Thou hast bright crowns in heaven, they say, 
But none for him who once was mine, 

He wasted all of life's bright day. 

And then he died and made no sign." 

I stilled my bitter cries, 

A hush of peace fell on the wood. 

The breezes whispered " God is good," 
The birds made sweet replies. 

" Thy human love is strong, 

It goes beyond the grave, 

It tries in vam to save. 
And still forgives the wrong. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. S7 

" But stronger far than thine, 

The love the Father gives; 

And every soul that lives, 
Lives by that love Divine." 

The stars shone through the night, 

I kneeled in humble prayer, 

" Our Father, here and there ! 
O, lead us to thy Light !" 

" Help us to worship Thee alone ! 

Help us to love Thee best of all ! 

Yet, pity, when our idols fall. 
And do not spurn them from thy throne. 

" Eternal love shall conquer wrong. 

All hearts shall seek the right. 

All souls shall dwell in light 
Ere then — ' How long, O, Lord, how long !' 

" If any soul is unforgiven, 

If heavy is his load. 

And dark is his abode. 
He shuts himself outside of heaven." 



5^ WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

" For God in yearning love looks down, 

And angel voices call, 

His peace is meant for all, 
To each He holds the golden crown." 

" He waits in love each soul to bless. 
But some are choosing worst. 
O, human heart, seek first 

The Lord to be thy righteousness." 



fA\ 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 59 



DEATH IN LIFE. 

FLOWER was faded in the spring, 
I know not why it gave me pain 



As though the poor, brown, blighted thing 
Could bring an old grief near again. 

Death walked with life one springtime bright, 
Life filled the world with gladsome sound. 

Death led a loved one from our sight 
To his still city, underground. 

O, Death, spring was not meant for thee. 
Reign thou in earth's dim, winter days, 

But let the happy, bright hours be 
A hymn perpetual in life's praise. 

Thy touch is cold, and chill thy breath, 
Thou leadest through a darksome way. 

We fear to trust our loved to death, — 
The night that shows no signs of day. 



6o WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

An answering voice was wafted near, 
I cannot tell you whence it came — 

'' Life dwells with Death, sad souls to cheer, 
And Death is only Death in name." 

" He works God's will, and not in vain, 
Whether he waits till autumn hours 

To garner in the ripened grain. 

Or in the springtime gathers flowers." 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 6 1 



A LITTLE GRAVE. 

N OTHER grave in the churchyard ! 
Another marble white ! 
Another home in the shadow, 
Bereft of joy and light. 

And the snow is falling drearily 

Upon a new-made mound, 
And hearts are beating wearily 

For her, beneath the ground. 

No more for her the sun shines bright, 

No more the feast is spread, 
Through all the day there comes no light 

In the city of the dead. 

All sad and still in the churchyard 

Falleth the snow so white, 
On a new-made grave it falleth, 

In darkness is gone our light. 



62 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



BLIGHTED BUDS. 



EAD in the springtime, when on the glad air 
Nature's sweet voices are singing in praise, 



When the world in its beauty is fairest, 
When the flowers are bedecked at their rarest, 
When in rejoicings all nature has share, 
Dead in the midst of these beautiful days ! 

Oh ! but to live is delight 

When the world is just teeming w^ith life. 

When the buds are white in their glory, 

When the young are reading their story. 

Story of love and delight 

And the skies with all gladness are rife. 

Then to die right out of the world, 
All the sunshine to fade from the sight. 
Then to feel the terror and gloom 
That hide all the light from the tomb ! 
Then to see Death's banner unfurled. 
Looking down in the cold and the night ! 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 63 

Dear God ! for the blight of these broken lives, 
So easily here in the dark disunited, 
Hast Thou, beyond, a Promised Land 
More fair than this, with hopes more grand. 
Where everything beautiful lives and thrives 
And by Thine own Presence, the city is lighted ? 



64 WAYSIDE LEAVES. 



t@ 



IN THE DARK. 

HE birds have vanished from their nest, 
The sun has hidden in the west, 
My heart goes forth alone in quest 

Of its one love. 
Drearily fall the withered leaves, 
Drearily moans the sighing breeze, 
Breaking the dead twigs from the trees 
That bend above. 

On the earth the shadows creep, 
While God gives His loved ones sleep, 
A wearisome watch must keep 

The eyes that weep. 
The clouds have laid their lengthening bars 
Across the glory of the stars 
Lest earth should vex with frets and jars 

Their quiet deep. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 65 

It is the darkness of the night 
When nothing stays of all the light 
And only sad-faced ghosts are white, 

My heart is lone. 
I stand upon a grave this night, 
And demons rise that would affright 
The strong in might and brave in fight 

By their death-tone. 

Shades flit forever to and fro — 

The fears that come, the joys that go, 

The sad suspense that dreads to know, 

The ghost of peace. 
Ah ! when will love return again ? 
Ah ! when will joy's light burn again ? 
And still my heart is asking when, 

While fears increase. 

Oh ! why did I drive them out of my heart ? 
My old beliefs, my trusts, my part 
In the Heavenly joy and the Healer's art 
And my lost love ? 



66 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

I thought my love would come again 
As " cometh pleasure after pain/* 
As cometh sunshine after rain, 
As came the Dove. 

But some things lost are lost for aye, 
When die the trusts of youth's bright day 
There comes to them no other May, 

No other spring ; 
And when our loves, despised, depart ; 
They ne'er return to cheer the heart, 
There is nor balm, nor healer's art, 
Nor anything 

Yet standing in the dark alone, 
And silencing the weary moan, 
Some way a hopeless hope has grown, 

A little trust ; 
That if another life is ours, 
Somewhere we'll find earth's faded flowers 
Grown bright in the eternal hours, 

Raised from the dust. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 6y 



RAIN. 

Springtime rain ! 
Calling forth the Maytime flowers, 
Giving hope of brighter hours, 
All the earth is pure at last 
When the blessed rain is past. 
Clearer hue was never seen 
Than is met in living green, 
Blossoms sweet have lifted up 
To the drops each fairy cup. 
Sunlight smiles upon them now, 
As beneath the weight they bow. 
We all agree 
In thanking thee, 
Springtime rain ! 

Childhood's tears ! 
Telling of some childish grief, 
Mother's kiss will bring relief 



6S WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

For the laughter comes at last, 
When the sadder tears are past. 
Sweeter sound was never known, 
Than the children's merry tone. 
Small the part of earth's alloy. 
That can mingle in their joy ! 
Following the wayward sigh, 
Comes a smile to cheek and eye, 

Such grief as this 

Brings after-bliss, 
Childhood's tears ! 

Autumn rain ! 
When the springtime flowers are dead, 
When the thought of hope is fled, 
All the earth is desolate. 
Closed and barred is Eden*s gate, 
Hear the sobbing, hopeless rain 
Beating down the blighted grain. 
See the scattered leaves and sere, 
Latest fruitage of the year ! 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. 69 

All the earth is dimmed at last, 
When the summer glow is past. 

It sadly grieves 

O'er fallen leaves, 
Autumn rain ! 

Manhood's tears ! 
When life's sweetest word is said 
And the hopes it brought are dead ! 
When the feet that went astray 
Have forever missed the way. 
Hopeless are these later tears, 
Tide of grief in wintry years ; 
Tears that came too late to save 
One loved idol from the grave. 
All of life is dimmed at last, 
All its glow is in the past. 

We cannot pray 

Such grief away. 

Manhood's tears ! 



70 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



TWO BROTHERS. 




HERE was a man who taught the creed, 
All orthodox was he, 
" Jesus is Son of God," he said, 
" His death atones for me. 

*' His love upholds me or I sink, 

To doubt His truth is sin. 
Nor can the unbeliever think 

A home in heaven to win." 

There was a man who heard this creed, 

An infidel was he. 
But pure of thought and true of deed 

He daily strove to be. 

Two lives both consecrate to God, 

And both misunderstood ! 
Though different were the ways they trod, 

Both lives were lived for good. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 7^ 

****** 

The Sabbath bells began to ring, 

The Christian's eyes were dim, 
** In heaven I hear my angel sing, 

I go in peace to Him." 



The night was cold and dark and still. 
The doubter's eyes were dim, 

*' I tried in vain to do God's will. 
And raised vain prayers to Him." 

****** 

Above, heaven's gates were opened wide, 

The glory beaming far, 
And two there entered side by side 

Where all the holy are. 

And one, the trusting, kneeling low 

Before the Crucified, 
Praised him who erewhile suffered woe 

And for the sinner died. 



72 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

And one, the doubter, raised his eyes, 
"At last, thank God, I see." 

He spoke Christ's word in glad surprise, 
"The truth shall make you free." 

****** 

And now I know why came this dream, 
Given when my faith was dim ; 
. For God, more pitying than men deem, 
Saves all who live for Him. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 73 



THE CHILD'S PRAYER. 



HEx\RD alow, sweet song, 
A little maiden sang, 
About the right and wrong 
Her words in music rans;. 



'&• 



" Child " said I with a sneer, 
*' There is nor right nor wrong 

For you to seek or fear. 
Our life is not for long." 

She looked with earnest eyes, 
'' I know that God is love, 

The good man when he dies 
Will dwell with Him above." 

"A child's belief!" I cried 
" But prove it if you can. 

I had a friend who died 

When first this year began." 



74 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

" My friend comes not to me, 

His life is over now, 
He cannot speak or see, 

For Death has kissed his brow." 

" I have no love for God. 

He rules, but loves us not. 
His is an iron rod. 

And we are soon forgot." 

The child kneeled down to pray, 
" O, Father, wilt thou make 

My friend love Thee to-day, 
I ask for Jesus' sake." 

" For Jesus' sake," I wept, 
With eyes unused to tears, 

As through my memory crept, 
A thought of other years. 

My mother prayed the same. 
And I in days gone by, 

Listened to His dear name 

And loved, I scarce knew why. 



IV A YSIDE LEA VES. /$ 

I have not faith to pray, 

My life has gone astray, 
So long ago I lost my way 

My night can know no day. 

My spirit-eyes are dim, 

I cannot, dare not pray ; 
Yet am I drawn to Him, 

" The light, the truth, the way." 

Because a child did say 

" O Father, wilt Thou make 
My friend love Thee to-day, 

I ask for Jesus' sake." 



/6 WA YSIDE LEA FES. 




THE MERMAID. 

CHILD was playing on a beach, 
A mermaid played beside, 
The mermaid sat where wavelets reach 
And crown the coming tide. 

It made a picture very fair, 
The child with sparkling eye. 

The mermaid with her golden hair, 
Above them both the sky. 

The child spoke thus in thoughtful tone, 

" Beyond the sky is heaven. 
But 'tis for human souls alone, 

To you it is not given." 

The mermaid said with bitter cry, 
" Then have I prayed in vain " 

A voice came downward from the sky, 
" To this shalt thou attain." 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. TJ 

" God bringeth answer to all prayer, 

He gives no wish in vain, 
Who share in need, in blessing share, 

Who love shall live again." 



yS WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



THE REAPERS. 

[A spirit was said to bear a torch and a pitcher of water, 
saying, " With this torch, I ])urn heaven ; with this water, I 
quench hell ; that nothing may be left but the love of God in 
the heart."] 

HREE reapers in one field, 

And the shadows of night were long, 



mm 



Small was the harvest yield. 
Sad was the reapers' song, 
Toilers, all unblest. 
Toilers without rest ! 

There was burning a fiery sea, 

The smoke of its torment was near. 
And one of the reapers three 
Was filled with a terrible fear. 
Fear of the fire and thirst, 
Fear of the death accurst. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES, 79 



There was shining a golden sea, 

With its banks of crystal white, 
And one of the reapers three 
Was longing for shores of light, 
In the land of the blest 
Where the weary rest. 



Spoke clear in voice of prophet's song, 

The spirit of water and fire, 
" Your work is right, your motive wrong, 
Nor fear nor hope I desire — 
Who, looking above 
Will labor through love ?" 



*' If the heaven you hope for is bright, 

'Tis because God's presence is there. 
His love hath given its light. 
His love can make earth as fair, 
When you love Him best 
You enter His Rest.'* 



80 WAYSIDE LEAVES. 

" If ever the future is sad, 

'Tis because you have chosen the wrong, 
The possible good is possible bad, 
The discord of sin in the song, 
Human souls, sin-scarred, 
Forever are marred." 



" This water shall quench the blazings of hell. 

This fire shall burn heaven, yet all shall be well. 
Who looks for God's love, finds always a joy. 
Nor water, nor fire, hath power to destroy. 
Choose wisely the part 
Of heaven in the heart." 



For long time, the earth's tumult was still, 

Gone was the angel's voice, 
Naught tokened the coming of ill. 
Naught whispered to any " Rejoice." 
Shrouded deeply in night 
Were the seas of light. 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. 8 1 

One reaper, most blest of the three, 

Toiled on all alone in the night, 
Through the depths of the gloom I could see 

The gleams of his harvests white. 
Said I low " There is naught to fear. 
Why toil, with nothing to cheer ?'* 

And he trustingly said 
" I have looked above, 

Where in stars I have read 
That 'God is Love.' " 



82 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



DREAMS OF YOUTH. 




NLY in youth we see from far 

The brightly sliining, promised shore. 
A little while behold the star 

That gleams for us the river o'er. 

Then come the struggle and the toil, 
The work in darkness and in pain, 

With little rest and little spoil. 

With heavy heart and weary brain. 

Then surely comes at last the day 
When all our dreams return again, 

We find again the long lost way, 
We find the light at life's amen. 

Then not in vain, the dreams of youth, 
And not in vain, its hopes are given. 

They are the shadow of the Truth, 
The echo of the songs of heaven. 




WA YSIDE LEA VES. 83 



THE RADICAL. 

S one who thus would fain forget 
The ills to which his life is set ; 



He built him up a temple fair 

And it was said he worshipped there. 

Yet none had ever seen him kneel 
Or knew what he might think or feel ; 
Though often to the altar-stone 
They saw him go his way alone. 

His ways they could not understand, 
But they had touched his kindly hand. 
They knew his sympathetic heart 
In all their sorrows bore a part. 

So when he died, they wept him sore, 
Yet ere the hurting of their loss was o'er, 
They burned his church and branded him 
An infidel of wayward whim. 



84 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

The fragrance filled the air around 
Of wild flowers growing on his mound ; 
And all his deeds to help and bless 
In heaven were counted — Righteousness. 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. 8$ 



THE WHITE VEIL. 



m. 



HE earth was weary of her sin, 
Weary — oh ! so weary ! 



What way for her the heavens to win, 

Earth, desponding, dreary ! 
Ah, me ! To find some angel blest 
To win her back to peace and rest ! 

And voices answered from afar 

Musically blending, 
" No touch of sin can ever mar 

Priestly prayers ascending. 
Who wears the snow-white veil of peace, 
His sorrows and his troubles cease." 

" Hast thou not seen thy children well, 
Holy 'round thee kneeling ! 

Hast thou not heard the words they tell, 
Power and peace revealing ! 

Ah ! all of sin that may assail 

Can touch thee not Svithin the veil.' " 



86 WAYSIDE LEAVES. 

And earth made question " Free from spot ? 
Cleansed from thought of sinning ? 
As though in truth I sinned not, 

Heavenly good be winning ?" 
The answer came like dawn of rest, 
" To take the veil is to be blest." 



And all the priests together said 

" Unto earth is given 
That she evermore be comforted 

Veil of bride of heaven." 
The solemn darkness fell around 
With snowy flakes upon the ground. 



When sun arose on hill and dale 

Dawn of day revealing, 
The earth had on her spotless veil, 

Sign of purest feeling. 
So gleaming white the earth was grown, 
No traces of her sin were shown. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 8/ 



She did not look as though a place 
Could be left in sadness, 

Beneath such beauty of the face 
Should be only gladness. 

Nevermore should sin have birth 

On the pure and whitened earth. 



Yet 'neath that light so fair and sweet, 

Mournful is the story, 
The clash of arms and strife unmeet 

Came to mar the glory — 
And louder than the priestly word, 
The cries of woe and war were heard. 



And nearer than the heavenly song 

Unto earth appealing, 
Arose the wretched wails of wrong 

Blackest crime revealing, 
What meaneth all this wicked din. 
When earth has cleansed her from her sin ? 



SS WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

When earth has chosen God this day, 

Whitest veil has taken, 
And has sought the better way, 

All her sin forsaken ! 
Though wrapped in snowy robe so pure, 
She has not found for sin the cure. 



The heart of the world is sad and sore, 
The evil of sin is dark as before, 
Oh ! priests ! chant on as you may and will. 
No veil of white can save from ill ; 

While dark the beginnings of sin 

Are found as of old within. 



'Tis not by veils of spotless white, 
Nor yet alone by outer light, 
But by the mind of Christ within. 
The world is cleansed from its sin. 
True life in peaceful hours, 
Brings earth her buds and flowers. 



PFA YSIDE LEA VES. 89 



The blackest spot of darkest earth 
May give the rose and violet birth ; 
And human hearts true love can win 
As though no sin had ever been ; 
And in repenting pain 
Is cleansed the deepest stain. 



Thus by the seed sown through the years, 
And watered by repentant tears, 
And by a heart that heeds through all 
The heavenly sign and seal and call ; 
The better life we seek, 
Though weary we and w^eak. 



Nor veil we need nor outward sign, 

But the indwelling love divine ; 

And ere we know — thank God — ^behold ! 

From mouth of grave the stone is rolled. 
The flowers of faith unfold, 
All things are turned to gold. 



90 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

The sun has risen, we are blest, 

The day has work and work is rest, 

From earth's dark heart the flowers have grown, 

The good in beauty's form is shown, 

O, world ! thy sinning cease, 

God gives thee — Peace. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 9 1 



LEGEND OF PILATE. 



CANNOT wash the blood-stains off, 

To-day I hear the cruel scoff — 

The words of malice hear 

And His sad eye I fear — 
Could I but wash this stain away 
Methinks I'd die in peace to-day." 

" How could I save Him if I would ? 

I told them surely He was good. 
Be theirs the murder-spot 
Whose color changeth not. 

Ah ! Death come thou at last to me 

And from this plague-spot set me free." 

Death touched him with his cold and white, 
Yet in the shadows of that night, 

The bloody hands were red ! 

Sin's seal upon the dead ! 
And ever in the land of night 
A spirit waileth for the light. 



92 IVA YSIDE LEA VES. 

It wrings and washes hands of red, 
And always mourns the " Just man " dead. 
And always mourns in vain 
For life's lost chance again. 
There is on hands and heart a stain 
For which all washings are in vain. 



WA VSIDE LEA VES. 93 



ANGEL WHISPERS. 



MID the fleecy clouds of day, 
Amid the starry skies of night 
Bright angel ones in unseen way 

Come earthward from the realms of light. 

And when the scenes of earth are bright, 

When it is happiness to live. 
They whisper to us " Ere comes night, 

Seek higher joys than earth can give." 



We heed them not. We love earth best 
Till disappointment makes us sad — 

Then angels tell of heavenly Rest 
And of a land forever glad. 

Of all earth's race, most blessed they, 

Who've learned although by sorrow driven, 

To walk where angels show the way. 
The upward way that leads to heaven ! 



94 ^A YSIDE LEA VES. 



THE IDEAL LIFE. 




OU, who look with prophet's eyes. 
You, who speak " exceeding wise," 
If you heed the heavenly vision, 
You shall enter gates elysian. 

Grow into that vision of grace, 
Abide in the holiest place. 
Not vainly you strive nor for naught, 
God has your Ideal in thought. 

That you to your dream may attain, 
His love leading upward is given, 
The way of the hills is made plain, 
The heights are the nearest to heaven. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES, g$ 



THE SOUL'S INHERITANCE. 



HOICEST guerdon is the treasure 
Christ prepares in heaven for thee 
Where God giveth without measure 
Evermore eternally. 

Heir thou art to life immortal, 

Heir to riches manifold. 
Thou shalt enter heavenly portal, 

Gates of pearl and streets of gold ! 



How blest to rise to such estate, 
Free in the boundless space. 

Ah, soul, thou art indeed so great 
Through God's abounding grace. 

Here is thy life but just begun, 

Life reaching on alway. 
Thou shalt not know the set of sun 

In that Eternal Day. 



96 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

Through endless ages thou shalt grow, 
Learn laws and ways divine. 

From stars above to flowers below 
The secrets shall be thine. 

Through endless ages thou shalt see, 
(Descrying beauty once unknown) 

A kingdom fair prepared for thee 
In wondrous glory shown. 

Through endless ages thou shalt hear 
The songs the angels sing 

The music of the upper sphere, 
The praises of the King. 

Through endless ages thou shalt love, 
With love of heavenly worth, 

Love holy ones and God above 
And all thy friends of earth. 

Through endless ag3s tl ou shalt live 
The life so grand and fair 

Which God alone to those can give, 
Who love heaven's purer air. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 9/ 

Through endless ages thou shalt do 

In joy, the Father's will, 
Thy deeds of love each hour renew 

And be unwearied still. 

Dear soul, since gifts like these are thine, 

Leave aims of lesser worth, 
Set thou thine eyes on things divine 

That perish not with earth. 

Be rich towards God. It is His will 

To give thee heaven's estate. 
Rise to the good. Forsake the ill 

And be thou truly great. 

Shall sorrows harm thee ? Nay. 

These blessings in disguise 
Bring out the stars before the day. 

Remember — God is wise. 

Shall sins debase thee ? Nay. 

God cleanses thee from sin, 
And to the humble as they pray, 

The sweets of heaven begin. 



98 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

Shall aught distress thee ? Nay, 
Be thou, O soul ! serene, 

And mirrored in thy living, may 
The love of God be seen ! 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 99 



THE LIKENESS OF EARTH. 



JHE restless lake is rough and brown 
I And all the stars in looking down 



Can only see the billows frown. 
The earth is through the water spread, 
The shimmering light of stars is fled, 
The beauty of the world is dead. 

The restless heart with gloom oppressed 
And sinful burdens unconfessed, 
Still wanders sad in search of rest ; 
While angry thoughts that rage within 
Fill all the soul with ceaseless din 
And leave the impress of their sin. 



100 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



THE IMAGE OF GOD. 



HE restful lake reflects the sky, 
11 Deep in its bosom mirrored lie 
The stars with many a golden eye, 
And all the beauties of the air 
Are pictured in the quiet there. 
The under-world is very fair. 

The restful heart reflects the light 
That shineth down by day and night 
And leadeth in the way of right. 
Thus is God's Image pictured there 
And by His Presence earth is fair 
And all of life becomes a prayer. 



JVA YSIDE LEA VES. 10 1 

ON THE HEIGHTS. 

To my Ffiend, 



ISTEN for the angels' tread, 
Hear the heavenly greeting. 
Rouse thee, for the dawn is red, 
Morning will be fleeting. 

On the heights, the heights of life, 
Raise thy heart into the glory ; 

Read above the valley's strife 
The transfiguration story. 

Thou art lifted from the base, 
Lifted from thy heart of sin. 

Thou hast found the holy place 
Where heavenly heights begin. 

Light of heaven is on thy brow, 
" Solar light " of mystic name ; 

Canst thou tell me when and how 
All the glory to thee came ? 



102 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

Keep thou the heights nor lose thy place. 

Thy loss might be some soul's despair. 
Who stands the foremost in the race 

Must live and strive with greatest care. 

I charge thee by the heavenly light, 
That glorifies thy better day, 

Walk loyal to the true and right 
And do not falter by the way. 

I charge thee by the eyes that wait 

To see thee win thy crown, 
Keep to thy luminous estate. 

Nor tremble, nor look down. 

I charge thee by our Father's love, 
Who gives the light by which we see, 

Follow this path that leads above 
Time's heights unto eternity. 

Thus shall the sunlight give thee cheer, 
Faith's flowers shall gild the sod. 

The best unto thy heart be dear. 
The dearest shall be God. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. IO3 




''GIVE ME BACK MY FLOWERS." 

NE by one they fell in the stream, 
The beautiful flowers from her hand. 
While she stood as one in a dream 
They floated away from the land. 

At last when her dream was fled, 
She called in amazement and grief, 

" My flowers, give them back," she said, 
But the stream to her calling was deaf. 

We stand on the bank of Time's stream, 
With the flowers of youth in our grasp, 

Yet we live as one in a dream. 
And slowly our hands unclasp. 

Youth passes us by on the wave. 
Our strength goes unheeded away. 

We cannot recall from their grave 
The flowers we are losing to-day. 



104 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



THIS IS NOT YOUR REST. 



CHRYSALIS lay in his earth-shell drest 
And he might have slept for aye, 
But a butterfly whispered " Seek the best 

And strive for the realms of day," 
And a voice within him seemed to say 

" The future life is best. 
Your wings are given to fly away, 
For ' This is not your Rest.' " 



The germ of a flower was in the ground, 

And it might have staid for aye. 
But the sunshine whispered, "' We have found 

A place that is bright with day," 
And the soul of the floweret made reply, 

" Arise and do your best, 
You were not meant in the ground to lie, 

For ' This is not your Rest.' " 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. IO5 

The birds were hidden in their nest, 

When a gust of wind passed by 
And said, " For you the south is best, 

Here you can only die." 
And the answering voice within said sweet, 

" For you the south is best. 
Then take your journey far and fleet, 

For ' This is not your Rest.' " 

A son of man was living for gain, 

The earthly goods in quest. 
When spoke the voices of joy and pain, 

'' The infinite world is best," 
And a voice was heard within his heart, 

A voice of heavenly guest, 
" Oh ! wisely choose the better part, 

For ' This is not your Rest.' " 



I06 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



THE LATEST DANDELION. 



EAR little flower that came too late, 
Last sunny smile of Summer dead. 



Her latest blessing on thy head 
Atones for thy untoward fate. 

No sunshine bright to welcome thee ! 

No gentle breeze to waft a kiss ! 

Nor canst thou know the spring-time bliss, 
Nor summer glories canst thou see. 

There is no sister in the held, 

Nor, lonely floweret, canst thou dream 
How decked with gold the meadows seem 

Before the summer days are sealed. 

The hills beyond are bleak and bare. 
The plains around are sere and brown, 
All nature wears a mournful frown, 

And there is frost within the air. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 10/ 

Dear little flower, that bloomed so late, 
What wast thou doing underground 
When all around thy mates were found 

Before the world was desolate ? 

Fair little flower, too late to gain 
The summer sun and harvest time, 
Thou golden flower of wintry clime, 

Rejoice. Thou hast not lived in vain. 

The farewell smile of summer flown, 
A promise is of spring to be. 
And of the joy thou mayst not see, 

Thou herald art, and thou alone. 

Thus lonely lives, that miss the cheer 
Of summer days that come no more, 
As brave through storms, they look before 

Are heralds of the golden year. 

Good-bye, sweet flower, what thou hast lost, 
That thou hast gained another way. 
Thy heart is bright as summer day, 

Thy lesson lives beyond the frost. 



I08 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



MERRY CHRISTMAS. 



\PPY children full of glee, 
Gather round our Christmas tree. 
Christmas gifts we here receive 
On the merry Christmas eve. 
Christmas songs we gladly sing, 
Merrily our voices ring. 
None are left alone to grieve 
On the joyous Christmas eve. 
O, the Christmas time, the Christmas time ! 
'Tis the happiest time to me. 
And the Christmas bells are the bells that chime. 
In the merriest harmony. 

Children, singing, do you know 
The Christmas song of long ago ? 
It was sung by angels then, 
''Peace on earth, good-will to men." 



H'J YSIDE LEA VES. IO9 

May the memory of that song 

Ever keep us from the wrong ! 

Heavenly blessings we receive 

On the peaceful Christmas eve. 

O, the Christmas time, the Christmas time ! 

'Tis the happiest time to me, 

And the Christmas bells are the bells that chime 

In the merriest harmony. 

Children, singing, do you know 

The Christmas gift of long ago ? 

God's best gift unto us given 

When the Christ-child came from heaven ? 

May the memory of his love 

Lead us toward his home above ! 

Richest blessings we receive 

On the happy Christmas eve. 

O, the Christmas time, the Christmas time ! 

'Tis the happiest time to me, 

And the Christmas bells are the bells that chime 

In the merriest harmony. 



1 10 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



THE BROOKLET. 

Translated from Goethe. 



HOU brooklet, as the silver bright, 
Forever hastening past my sight, 
Upon thy bank I musing stand, 
Thou comest whence ? To seek what land ? 

' I come from depths of rocky den, 

And through the flowery moss-grown glen, 

Calm on my mirror rests the while 

The blue of heaven with friendly smile. 



" Therefore the glad child-heart have I, 
It bears me on, I know not why, 
Who from the rock has guided me, 
He will, I think, my Leader be. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES, 1 1 1 



3 



LEONORE. 

OWLY kneeling by the door, 

Raising brown hands toward the sun, 
Prayed the plain child Leonore, 
Till the long, bright day was done. 

Sweetly played the evening breeze 
Where the flower-buds opened fair. 

Darkly waved the sighing trees, 

While she prayed the self-same prayer. 

" All the world is very bright, 
Everywhere is beauty seen. 
Shadows chasing with the light, 
Frolic on the village green. 

" There the pretty children play. 
They are beautiful to see, 
Would that I were fair as they ! 
Please give beauty unto me." 



112 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

"■ Be thou beautiful. Arise !" 
Was it answer to her prayer ? 
All the stars with countless eyes 
Saw her standing, wondering there. 



Slowly sped the long years by, 
Bringing work to Leonore ; 

Till her summons came to die, 
Till her working time was o'er. 



Children decked her grave with flowers, 
While the poorest, weeping, said, 
" Now the truest friend of ours 

Has been numbered with the dead." 



Some there were who stood apart, 
Reverent with bowed heads there, 

Those who by her loving heart 
Had been rescued from despair: 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 1 3 

Wanderers saved from lives of sin, 

To the right grown dutiful, 
Led the fold of Christ within 

By her true life, beautiful. 

God's best answer to her prayer is given. 
She is named " The Beautiful," in heaven. 



114 ^^ YSIDE LEA VES. 




THE TANGLED WORK. 

LL the work is in a tangle, 
All the threads are in a jangle, 
Every time she gives a jerk 
Comes a false stitch in the work. 

" Mother, make it straight, 

It is growing late, 

It is almost night." 
And the mother smiling sweet 
Makes the tangled web complete, 
Places all the seams aright — 
Sets the stitches close and tight, 
Drawing every one with care, 
Leaves the seam all straight and fair ; 

Now the work is right 

And it is not night. 

All our work is in a tangle, 
All our days are in a jangle, 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 1 5 

And our lives are out of tune 
With the perfect light of June. 

^' Father, give Thy aid 

Or we are afraid 

Of the coming night." 
And the Father, hearing prayer, 
Makes our lives His special care ; 
Makes the colors peaceful blend, 
Guides us as a loving friend. 
Lifts to heaven our wondering eyes, 
Where His perfect pattern lies. 

Now the work is right 

And there is no night. 
Ah ! the helpers on earth, their lives are blest, 
And God, the great Helper, helpeth the rest. 



1 16 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



SHEFFIELD CENTENNIAL HYMN. 



|HAT we might reap these brighter days, 
Our fathers sowed with toil and tears. 



We speak their names with thankful praise 
And bless them for these hundred years. 

May we but live our lives as well 

Devoted to the true and free, 
Another hundred years shall tell 

How we have prized our Liberty. 

God bless our land — fair Freedom's land. 

Protect her from all ways of guile. 
Teach her by night to trust thy hand, 

Teach her by day to seek thy smile. 

We love our country with a love 

Forever loyal, ever true. 
We seek a guiding power above 

And humbly strive His will to do. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 1/ 



ONE SUMMER DAY. 




NE summer morn when life was bright, 
We opened wide the old house-door, 
And down the walk of shade and light 
We passed away to come no more — 

No more as in the olden day 

With morning's light upon our face. 

Through meadow-paths our feet must stray, 
Our childish feet that leave no trace. 

Bright shone that morn the glorious sun. 

The orchard waved its crown of leaves. 
The children shouted in their fun, 

The mountain looked like one v/ho grieves. 

Three children — only three that day 
For one the sweetest and the best. 

Had wearied early in her play 
And early found her place of rest. 



I 1 8 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

Dear Emma, with the eye of light, 
And fairest brow of thought serene, 

Our memories of thee are bright. 
An angel is our household queen. 

But we were three, and one was brave 
And walked with manly step and true 

Strong step that touched so near the grave 
And unawares the dearer grew. 

Yes, we were three and one was fair 
And on the sweetness of her face, 

And in the gleaming of her hair 

Was beauty's touch of love and grace. 

She was the youngest of our band 

And tenderly we smoothed her way — 

Told her bright tales of fairy land 
And early learned for her to pray. 

While full of plans we went our way. 
The door was closed to ope no more. 

We entered on the work of day. 
We children with the world before. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 19 

The day has passed as days will pass, 
With sunshine and with storms between, 

The shadows lie upon the grass. 
The grass is now no longer green. 

For us no more the wayward breeze 

Across the lily-pond will blow, 
And shake in glee the chestnut trees, 

And wake the songs we used to know. 

Yet still the light wind in the pines 

Makes moan for aye as those who weep, 

And where the star of evening shines, 
Beneath the trees our dear ones sleep. 

Alas ! for those that come no more 

To join in merry sport and play, 
The happy morning hours are o'er. 

The sun is sloping down to-day. 

The glorious dreams of youth have fled. 

The golden skies have changed to gray^ 
Some hopes too sweet to live are dead. 

My life has been this summer day. 



1 20 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



SUGGESTIONS. 



HE growth predicts the harvest. 



^.Pal Rich hearts and rich days are always still 
hearts and still days. 

Only by the shadows flitting under the trees, do 
we who will not look up to greet the sun's appearing, 
learn that the sun still shines for us. If we will look 
down, sorrow must be our teacher. 

The sadness that runs through Eternity, means 
the reaping of what our own hands have sown. 

The gate Beautiful should ever open towards the 
temple of the Holy. 

The child stooped to pick up its shadow. Ah, 
little one, taller than you have stooped for less. 

The frost tracery is as beautiful as our dieams. 
But the real light of day changes it to tears. 

In solitude, as it were in the world's ante-room, 
let us kneel silently and prepare our hearts for the 
world's work which awaits our doing. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 2 1 

It is not that God is nearer, but the world is 
farther. 

We were almost wrecked on the red sea of wine. 
It was beautiful to the eye, and the taste of its 
tinted wave was like the essence of all things good ; 
but the whirlpool seized us and only by fiercest 
struggling did we escape. Yet we spoke no word 
of warning. We let others try for themselves. 
Some sank to rise no more. We saw it all, but did 
not blame ourselves, till the avenging angel came, 
and striking down in the red sea, our dearest loved 
at home, said to us through the purple lips of Death, 
*' Thou art the man." 

We drift over golden seas and never dream that 
they are golden, till the light is gone, and we are 
alone in the darkness. 

The fire must purify, the sea must cleanse, that 
out of the fiirnace and up from the depths, may rise 
souls stronger for trial, nobler for sorrow, more trust- 
ing because of God's voice which came to them in 
their sadness and spoke their names in heaven. 

Our lives are never poorer for what God has taken. 



122 WAYSIDE LEAVES. 

The shallow little brook laughs the most, yet its 
lights are broken ; while the deep, calm river carries 
in its bosom the stars of peace. 

The inner life for ourselves, the outer life for the 
world, and both for God ! 

Recklessness sometimes means wretchedness. 

A new life comes to some, and it is the old life 
glorified — the old duties, with " For God " written 
on them. 

An unconsecrated life is as a sermon without a 
benediction, a church without a heavenward pointing 
spire, a temple without a " Holy of Holies." 

The old Thanksgiving feast has come, new again 
and with new cause for thankful hearts. The grand- 
mother's eyes are dim, but the little children gather 
around her as in the days of the past. She counts 
them softly and welcomes the new-comers tenderly. 
One is not there. "Where's Freddie?" No answer 
comes at first, for the lips tremble and the eyes will 
fill with tears. " Ah ! grandma, Freddie is not far 
from you, but some of us will live through weary 
years without him. Have you forgotten that when 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 23 

the spring flowers came, God transplanted ours ? Do 
not weep so, grandma. Our little boy is safe. 
Earthly joys are "Bitter-sweet." His lips might 
have tasted deeply of the bitter part, but from all 
sorrow, God has saved him. The paths of earth 
are in devious ways. He might have wandered 
from the path of right, but from all sin, God has 
saved him. From earth's garden of beauty, before 
he had seen the wilderness side, God took him to 
the heavenly Eden. He has learned more than we 
this year, and you will not have long to wait." It 
was nearer than we thought, for as the sun went 
down, the grandmother fell asleep and little Freddie 
welcomed her to Heaven's Thanksgiving feast. 

The paths to every new achievement are trodden 
first, by those who die before they reach the Prom- 
ised Land. 

Wastefulness is putting anything to a lower use 
than its highest ! The strong ship is wasted if used 
for kindling wood. The strong soul is wasted if 
used for unholy fires to mammon idols. 

Men's lives are too often like patchwork made in 



1 24 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

many shapes and colors. Yet God meant each life 
to be of one piece. 

When I see one afflicted, I think — " God gives 
that soul great possibilities." 

There was once a black, ugly pond ; but we 
loved it, for lilies had root in its heart, and in their 
season it was glorified. In human hearts should 
grow immortal lilies, and all of life should be glo- 
rified. 

It is sad to see one thing which fails in the ex- 
pression of the perfect plan of God ; sad to see one 
flower bud which never opens ; one tree which 
becomes a dwarfed and ill-shaped thing ; and in- 
finitely sad to see a blighted soul. 

If the flowers of faith and hope and love die in 
our hearts, it is because we have let them die. If 
the world is all dark to us, it is because we have 
turned from the sun. 

There comes a time in every life, where Reason 
says sadly, " Thus far I go, and no farther," where 
Faith says triumphantly, "Having not seen, we 
believe." 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 2 5 

The teacher's best success is that by which many 
minds are rightly disciplined and many hearts are led 
unto the truth. 

There must needs be partings here if meetings 
there. The partings are for time : the meetings, for 
eternity. 

In this dim world, we cannot always tell the 
glittering fire-flies from the stars. 

The trees grow old, yet every spring " the green 
leaves come again." These show each old tree to 
be ever young at heart. What matter how many 
winters' frosts have ridged its bark if still the flowers 
will bloom ! What matter though our heads are white 
with frosts of many years, if still the young, fresh life 
is in our hearts ! 

The boundless ocean, with the infinite pictured in 
its deep bosom, tosses and plays with trifles. So is 
it in the life of man. But we cannot lose sight of 
the infinity of the ocean. Happy, if we lose not 
sight of infinity for us ! 

Above us is heaven's arch of blue. Deep as the 
blue depths of ocean, fair and far as spirit-worlds. 



126 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

what recks it that the threatening clouds pass over 
its fair face and hide it from our longing eyes ? In 
itself is its beauty, in itself is its power. It treasures 
a million stars and cannot be moved by the slighter 
things around. Would it were so with human beauty 
and with human power ! 

Often our sorrows are but the shadows of a pass- 
ing cloud. 

The shadows make our world beautiful. So 
should sorrows beautify our lives. 

For every sad " It might have been " of earth, is 
written the infinite " It may be " of heaven. 

Some in selfishly saving their lives, have proved 
them not worth the saving. 

When one carries his joy in his own heart, it is 
his, incorruptible ; and the whole world cannot de- 
fraud him of it. 

There is a spirit dwells upon the cragged moun- 
tain side, and when men thoughtful mount alone, to 
view the glories of the early morn or the beatitudes 
of eventide, she speaks to them of things most holy. 
Reverently she leads them to the heights, and faster 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 2/ 

than their feet ascend the rugged mountain-way, 
their thoughts go up to God. 

Some clouds keep near the sun and drink rich 
rays of splendor. But others copying human hearts, 
go from the sun to shine as best they can without his 
light. I saw the brightness leave them, as I have 
seen the brightness leave the hearts of men. They 
took a cold, dull shade, instead of glorious hues. 
So is it with those souls who leave the Sun of Right- 
eousness and for themselves make choice of dark- 
ness. 

Good men's lives are like the mountain-tops. 
They reach the sunny heights, while all the valleys 
lie in shadow. 

Each tree, which with its foliage, helps to deck 
the mountain-side, each stream that sings along its 
pebbly path, each rock with its crown of fragile moss 
says to us, "To give is to live. The mountain gives 
to us our life, and we in turn are giving it the beauty 
which makes its life a blessing." 

Have you never hastened to pour forth your new 
happiness to your dearest friend, and felt the joy die 



128 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

out while you were telling it ? Have you not some- 
times sought human comfort, when the waves of 
trouble have gone over you, sought it of true and 
tender hearts, but sought in vain ? With better 
understanding would come tenderer sympathy. 

Where the play of breezes has made the soul's 
music, the jarring voices of life may not find easy 
entrance. 

Better to trust too much, and thine own generous 
soul suffer disappointment, than by trusting too little 
to wrong thy neighbor. 

The harvest-time of souls comes not on earth. 

In God's time, success is certain to the patient 
soul. 

Each soul learns through its own remorse, the 
bitterness of sin. 

After long absences we measure our progress by 
that of our friends, and when we see those who have 
distanced us, new purposes are formed within our 
soul, and our friends' higher success is the sermon 
by which we learn to make our lives rich and beau- 
tiful. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 29 

Hearts break for trifles, but they are never trifles 
to the hearts that break. 

There are lives in which suffering makes ^olian 
harps, to change each rude blast to melody. 

Earth's sweetest music is in the minor keys. 

There are dreams that shape the life. 

All noble deeds were once but some mind's 
"castles in the air." 

The scale of music reaches up from earth to 
heaven. 

The moon tells us the sun still shines, although 
our world has turned away from it, and we see it 
not. Holy lives tell us God still lives, although we 
have turned away from Him, and do not feel His 
presence. 

How beautiful are the constellations, as they seem 
to hold their way together through the heavens ! 
We can scarcely realize that they are only sisterhoods 
in seeming ; and those that appear the nearest may 
be farthest. This is like many of the sisterhoods of 
earth. 

We reckon the hours, before the sun shall set j 



I ^O WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

but life's sun sometimes fades before noon into 
night. 

There are men before whom the profane word is 
checked, the rough speech unused, and in whose 
presence the thoughts and conversation turn nat- 
urally to spiritual things. These lives are rebukes to 
evil. Sin shrinks from their presence and the better 
man triumphs. Their lives surround them with an 
atmosphere of holiness. 

Work is the " Philosopher's Stone," that turns 
our life to gold. 

There are failures which only one heart knows. 
There are successes which the world will never note. 

There are leaves crowded out of the warm air 
and the light. In the midst of Nature's abundance, 
they have starved to death. And in the midst of 
this Christian land, there are starved souls to-day. 

Before the autumnal days, we feel that the sum- 
mer is dying away from us. There is a hush in her 
meadows, and a spray of red leaves by the roadside, 
that tell us the summer is almost gone. 

Only when sorrow has made a vacant place in 



IV A YSIDE LEA VES. 1 3 1 

the heart, is it quite ready to receive a heavenly- 
guest. 

Those who mourn with vain longing for that for- 
giveness which dead lips can never grant, learn 
kindness to the living. 

Nature says to us '' This is not your rest." The 
voices are celestial that say " Man, thou shalt never 
die." 

We may start the sliding snow upon the moun- 
tain's brow ; but we cannot check it when it has 
become an avalanche. 

The rock that took hues from pearl-drops of water 
once, now bides the century's storms unmoved. 
The heart that could be influenced by a word once, 
is now unmoved by prayers or tears. 

As the clearest water distorts the objects seen 
through its medium, so very often the clearest intel- 
lect distorts the truth. It is not of the grand search 
for truth that we complain. The world has none 
too much of that. But it is the searching where the 
sad history of ages and the bitter experiences of our 
own hearts tell us, we can never find it. 



132 WA YSIDR LEA VES. 

If we work evil, we may be sure that sooner or 
later, we shall have to face that evil and its results. 

If we learn by our grief to wipe the tears from 
other eyes, it will not be in vain that ours have wept. 

Esau is not the only one who has sold his birth- 
right for a mess of pottage. 

All that lives to-day, lives because other life is 
sacrificed. 

Our present work will be taken from us ; per- 
haps before it is finished. Another work will be 
given us ; perhaps before we are ready. 

The saddest wrecks are of the ships that went 
down in sight of land. 

Poor excuse for taking the path into the wilder- 
ness, because one who took the path towards home, 
stumbled and turned aside ! 

Christ's cry, " My God, my God, why hast thou 
forsaken me ?" may mean that no Christian ever 
needs to feel the hiding of the Father's face. 

If circumstances give us but little knowledge, let 
us be sure that we have much in little. 

Often we pray that God will make our lives beau- 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. 1 33 

tiful, and then we rebel at the discipline he sends in 
answer to our prayer. 

When our Dagons fall prone on their faces, no 
earthly power can restore them to the place of gods. 

The step is short from heights to depths. 

It may be we failed in what we planned, that 
God might lead us to something better than we 
planned. 

On the mountain of grief the Transfiguration 
comes. 

When we worship at false altars, God has two 
ways of dealing with us. He " has a niche in heaven 
to hold our idols," or he says of-us " Ephraim is 
joined to his idols, let him alone." The first way, 
we call grief; the other, prosperity. But, were it 
ours to decide, would we dare choose such pros- 
perity ? 

Only those who understand how heavy is a bur- 
den borne alone, know how to help bear up the great 
world's burdens. 

The widow's oil is not the only thing that grows 
in giving. 



134 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

The world's best cure for grief, is work. 

There is a work for which sorrow is the conse- 
cration. 

Be worthy of praise, and it will not matter much 
whether you receive it or not. 

There are things which men never forget — 
things of joy and things of grief that stand out strong 
in the background of the years. 

For childhood's bright dreams, would we be will- 
ing to endure again childhood's bitter disappoint- 
ments ? 

The mountains did so merge into the skies that 
day, that we could not tell where earth ended and 
heaven began. Would that our daily living might 
so touch the skies ! 

As little as we can judge of the river's depths by 
the sparkling surface, so little can we judge of the 
heart's depths by the smiles or tears we see. If we 
throw a pebble into a stream, it troubles the surface. 
It may be borne along without disturbing the under- 
current, or it may remain for years where the deep 
waters flow. We cannot always tell. Nor can we 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. 1 35 

tell how deeply our acts and words sink into the 
inner life of those around us. The inner life is too 
deep, too sacred for any eye to read but God's. 

In things that always change, we note no change. 

The mournful truth is that more talent is 
blighted in the bud than ever blossoms in the per- 
fect flower. 

The only limit of God's giving, is man's capa- 
bility of receiving. 



136 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



SONG OF THE AGES. 

HROUGH long cycles of centuries, Nature's 
myriad voices sang in songs of prophecy. 



m 



Ages of working and of waiting were crowned at last 
by man's appearance. To-day we read through the 
fulfillment of the present, the promise of the past. 

We see why the sun first cleared the mists from 
the new world, and the ocean was rolled back until 
dry land appeared. We see why life came and huge 
trees reared full foliage beneath the damp clouds, and 
then died, when no eye had seen their beauty. 
We see why animal life had its reign in the world, 
and nobler and higher types appeared, till only one 
thing was lacking to make the long line of creation 
complete — a creature gifted with mind to compre- 
hend in some degree, the plan of the Creator. 

There were ages of silence, unbroken even by 
that " faintest of all faint sounds, the sound of grow- 
ing things." There were ages when " Darkness 
brooded over the face of the deep," and the cold 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 3 / 

plash of ocean's waves, working at the structure of 
the world, alone broke the stillness of the dreadful 
night. There were ages of terror, when the wild 
tempests tore down great forests, to bury beneath 
the sea; ages of dire sound, of upheaving oceans, 
of winds of -^^Eolus unchained and sweeping in a fury 
of madness over all the world. And after every 
storm, there was a calm of stillness and of death. 

It was a fearful discipline, and hard to under- 
stand ; yet not one too long night of death darkened 
the young world, not one too strong hurricane spread 
the black sea-mud above the forest trees ; nor was 
the cold too terrible, that piled up the ice-towers 
of the north ; for thus through the storms of the 
ages, the world was fitted to be the abode of man. 

Gardens of Eden bloom where all was desolate. 
Summer suns brighten the lands that lay in icy night. 
Earth beholds her king, and the old world prophecy 
gives place to songs of praise and gladness, 

Man is king. For his well-being the weary ages 
of darkness were endured. For his enjoyment, 
earth and air and sky prepared themselves through 



138 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

countless ages. For his better development millions 
of lesser lives were sacrificed. 

What then shall we expect of him for whom the 
centuries prophesied, and who through all the cycles 
of the years was held in the thought of God ? He, 
for whom the ages have worked to prepare a phys- 
ical home, is gifted with powers that belong to the 
infinite. Even as the earth foretold the physical 
life that should throb in myriad forms upon her 
bosom, so the soul foretells the immortal life that is 
able to transform earth's lowliest ones into " Kings 
and Priests unto God," 

If the earth passed through this long preparation 
time before ready for its Sabbath of rest, what 
wonder that the soul for which the earth was made, 
must pass through much sorrow-discipline before 
ready for God's endless Sabbath above ! Then we 
shall find that we had not one too dark day or too 
sad disappointment, that the clouds as well as the 
sunlight, were needed to purify the heart. Then 
we may trace the prophecy of our own lives, and 
prove at last, " God doeth all things well." 




WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 39 



HEART PICTURES. 

NCE in careless mirth you played by the door 
of home, while a mother's eye watched you 
lovingly. The days were very bright and full then. 
You are alone now, and you feel that life has in some 
way lost much of the old-time brightness. You look 
at your picture of home, and for a little moment you 
are rich again, rich in treasure of the Long Ago. 
You watch once more the morning sunlight warm 
the hills. You see again the little path through the 
meadows, and the brook that laughs as it rushes to- 
wards the sea. 

Flowers still bloom among the grasses, and the 
clouds are wafted silently through the " broad reach 
of sky." 

Brothers and sisters play with you, and kind faces 
smile upon you, faces that you see now only in your 
dreams. Again there is an unbroken band around 
the evening fireside, and voices of thankfulness and 
prayer arise unto the Heavenly Father. 



140 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

You start from your revery with a pain in your 
heart and longing — 

" Oh 1 for the touch of a vanished hand, 
And the sound of a voice that is still." 

Ah ! that home-picture ! It brings memories of 
those who come not at your calling, and yet to you 
*' They live, forever young in your remembrance." 

They may be as guardian angels, bringing golden 
thoughts from heaven. Close the home-doors ten- 
derly. They are not often opened now. If they 
were it may be you would live a better life. 

You have other pictures of the past. Here is 
the old schoolhouse where happy children met in the 
years that are gone. You count them over now, — 
those girls and boys whose lives were once so blended 
with your own. You count slowly and reverently, 
for the names of some are written in heaven and 
spoken no more on earth. Some lives have grown 
upward ; some have grown downward. The paths 
of life lead far apart. Distance, time, estrangement, 
are between. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 4 1 

" Alas ! for love if thou wert all 
And nought beyond, O, earth !" 

Do you remember the " last day," when your 
hopes were realized or blighted in one recitation, 
and your pride was in the fresh garlands you had 
helped to wreathe ? And, after all was over, the 
praises all told, the good-byes all said ; do you re 
member how drear the vacant benches looked and 
how lonely your heart was left ? Yet, through all 
the partings and the tears you went bravely forth to 
meet the future. Has that future fulfilled the prom- 
ises it made ? It has taken much ; has it given 
more than it has taken ? Close the school-doors 
thoughtfully, and in life's earnest working time strive 
to fulfill your school-day dreams. 

Here is a smaller picture and a sadder memory 
— two standing by the gate and holding the parting 
hand. You remember it, for your tears have dimmed 
it, and the hopes that beamed brightly in that hour 
of farewell, are trampled, dead beneath your feet. O, 
heart ! cease your vain questioning. Paths separate 
and it were vain to try to follow them. They will 



142 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

not join again on earth. God grant that these di- 
verging ways may meet at last where love shall under- 
stand, and live forever. 

Another picture ! the holy place where Christians 
pray. You remember the old church. You have 
counted every pane through which pours colored 
light. Here you grew tired sometimes, and were 
glad when you could go forth to the pure light of 
heaven, and feel the summer's breath upon your 
cheek. Here you went in sadder times when death 
had spoken to your soul, and the words were sweet 
that said " Come unto me all ye that labor and are 
heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." 

Here a great questioning came to you. " What 
and where is Truth?" Did answering ever come ? 
Here the struggle came in your heart — the old strug- 
gle between earth and heaven. Did you choose for 
earth .' Did you not know that all who make that 
choice, must needs "go away sorrowful?" Did 
you choose for heaven ? And has your life con- 
firmed your choice ? 

Close the church-doors reverently. There holy 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 43 

voices have often called you heavenward. Their 
echoes linger yet within your heart. 

Now you see again the light fall through the 
pines upon the long grass of the graves. You feared 
this place once. Ghosts peopled it and walked in 
white to meet you. Do you remember how some of 
these graves looked when first the turf was smoothed 
upon them .? Do you know how far their shadow 
has reached out over your life ? Have you learned 
the lessons they teach .^ There have been times 
when your faith could not reach above them. Can 
it now ? 

Close the heart's graves prayerfully, " Earth 
has no sorrows that Heaven cannot heal." 



144 ^^ YSIDE LEA VES. 



THE TREES AND THE WIND. 




LISTENED once to the voices of the trees, 
One told of green leaves in their prime, and 
the wind said joyously, " I'll give them strength." 

One, of new flowers in bloom, and the wind sang 
sweetly, " A thing of beauty is a joy forever." 

One spoke of blossoms faded, and the wind an- 
swered comfortingly, '' After the blossoming comes 
the fruiting time." 

One told of fruitage gone, and the wind answered 
still cheerily, " Sacrifice is glory." 

And one in summer swayed bare branches to- 
wards the sky, and the wind moaned through them, 
"For you there is no hope." And then I heard a 
great cry of grief through the lonely pines, for the 
brightness and the richness gone from earth. Yet 
under all the sadness, I thought there was faint mur- 
mur of hopeful words. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. I45 

" There is no death ; what seems so is transi- 
tion." 

But the murmur was very low. Perhaps I only- 
dreamed that the wind sang it to the blighted tree. 



140 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



THE ARTIST'S DREAM. 



DREAMED I was painting, and the colors 
were dissatisfied. " You are making a blotch 
of me," said the Carmine. " You are mixing me with 
Carmine till I lose my individuality," said Ver- 
milion. " You are putting me in too obscure a 
place," said Blue. '' You are using too little of me," 
said Pink. 

Then I said angrily to them all, " You blind- 
eyes, can you not see I am placing you all where I 
need you most, where you can do your best towards 
making the picture beautiful ! All I ask of you is to 
stay where I place you, "and wait in patience till 
your mission is accomplished, and the great artist 
has pronounced you worthy of a place In his temple. 
You could not be as beautiful elsewhere. If one of 
you were missing, or showed less or abounded more, 
the harmony of the picture would be Injured." 



JVA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 47 

" But you do not place me near my friends," 
said Yellow. 

And I tried to answer patiently, " Because if 
your friends were with you now, their work would 
ruin yours. When all things are ready, I shall place 
your friends by you to stay forever. You should 
trust me. You only see part of the picture, I see it 
all. You only see its present, I see its future." 

Then I thought I heard a voice that said to me, 
" Minister of beauty, make thine own life beautiful, 
doing trustingly the work given thee by the great 
Artist, who sees 'the end from the beginning/ and 
in His own best way, prepares thy impatient heart 
for the glad fruition of the eternal years." 



148 IV A YSIDE LEA VES. 



DOUBTERS. 



RUTHS do not come easily. Only what a 
W.^W man has studied most carefully ; only what 
has stood the test of both reason and life ; only what 
has been so engrafted into his being as to be a part 
of his nature, that, and only that, is his belief. 

Judged by this standard most people believe 
nothing. They accept the traditions of their ances- 
tors. But acceptance is not belief, although the 
crowning and inseparable part of it. 

Very many who do not believe and do not doubt, 
are happy and blessed in their acceptance of the 
Christian faith. They may imbibe much of the 
beautiful spirit of religion called Charity. What has 
spoken so earnestly to their hearts, may be respoken 
in their lives. They may love their ideal Christ, and 
thus have that heart-belief, which in the hour of 
death will stand them in better stead than any mere 
head-belief; but the fact remains, they do not be- 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 49 

lieve in Christ. They do not believe in immortality. 
At the reasoning of disbelievers, they stand aghast, 
horrified at what they call its wickedness, but unable 
to give a reason for their hope. Thus they do wrong 
to the belief which they profess and to the Christ 
they love. 

The doubters differ from this class ; for they 
know they stand on debatable ground. The solid 
earth seems to quake beneath their feet, and even the 
everlasting hills appear to move from their founda- 
tions. They look for many signs, but look in vain. 

Do not judge them, unless you too know what 
it is to doubt. They are but shadows i\\ a world of 
shadows ; and that they miss the blessedness which 
comes to trusting hearts, is surely punishment 
enough. Those who do not understand the desola- 
tion, cannot bring its cure. Doubting savors much 
of weakness. Yes ; and strong souls should be very 
compassionate and helpful towards the weak. Pity 
those who, losing the unquestioning trust of child- 
hood, find nothing real in earth or heaven to fill its 
place. Pity those who know the agony of Mary's 



150 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

cry ; and pray that while they, like her, are seeking 
a dead Christ, like her they may find a living 
Saviour. 

Oh ! you who doubt, did you ever think the 
Christian's comfort gives answer to the heart's long- 
ings? What would it be to you, if wandering no 
more on the " dark mountains," you might find your 
feet firm-set on the '^ everlasting hills ? " If waiting 
no more by "broken cisterns" you might quench 
your thirst at the fountain of " living waters ? " 
Think what it would be to stand by the grave of your 
heart's treasure, and not hear the terrible voice that 
says '^ Another bright, young life gone out into 
nothingness." Think what it would be to pray, and 
not feel the darkness close in around you, shutting 
out the glory-light of heaven ! All right desires are in 
God's world, promise of fulfillment. Hope, pray, wait, 
work. Even in " life's fitful fever," you may find 
Christ's words of promise true, and never thirst again. 

Strive to gain the teachable, childlike spirit ; be 
willing to do anything, aye ! and to suffer anything 
for knowledge of the truth ; be willing, if need be, 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 5 1 

to pass all of life in the search for it. Strive ever to 
make your own life true. Death for truth is better 
than life in any other cause. Defeat here is better 
than success elsewhere. Pray. Prayer may be the 
golden key that will unlock to you the gate of heaven, 
the heart of God. Live as in your holiest moments 
you have prayed to live. 

Whether you become established in any belief or 
not ; it will nevertheless, be infinitely better for the 
world and for you that you have lived a noble life. 
You will never repent the sacrifices you make for 
the right, even if upon that altar you lay your life 
that is and your hope of the life that may be. Only 
souls that are true are worthy of the truth. Life's 
grandest opportunity is that of living nobly on the 
earth. That is your opportunity now and all your 
life. 

Work for Christ in casting out the devils of preju- 
dice, of ignorance, of wrong. May this life as the 
morning twilight, lead to the full day when all things 
shall be seen in the light of God's Infinite Love ! 



152 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



m. 



WITH THE METHODISTS. 

HIS is the place of sudden transition, of 
smiles that are quickly succeeded by tears, 
and of tears, soon banished for smiles. The feelings 
are intense. They may be narrow springs, but they 
are often deep. As we enter the old church, restless 
heads turn toward us. There are laces, feathers and 
jewelry enough to have bowed Wesley's head with 
deepest grief. Yet something of the old character 
of the church remains. Even now it does most 
emphatically jerk people into a new life. It is the 
church that gathers the young into its embrace, and, 
encircling them with loving arms, bears them prayer- 
fully to the all-merciful Father. It is the church 
that reaches out guiding hands to all of us poor 
wanderers, and with a heart more loving than its 
creeds, would gladly clasp us all in one circle of 
brotherly love. It is the church of the class-meet- 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 5 3 

ing, that blessed institution ! where the strong give 
of their strength to the weak, and where the weak 
seekers receive sympathy and help. Did you ever 
anywhere else, hear such singing as peals forth from 
the Methodist camp-meeting ? One feels then that 
" The groves were God's first temples," and the 
gods as of old, do not disdain to dwell in leafy 
sanctuaries. In the evening, while the lights are 
glittering among the trees and weird shadows are 
sweeping over the ground, one can look up between 
the waving boughs, to the starry fields of heaven. 
Great silences lie between these noisy prayers and 
the rest there. White wings are hovering in the 
upper air. There is the holy place, and the blue 
sky is the curtain that hides from our sight the Holy 
of Holies. And the stars are the nails of gold. 
Grand temple this, where all the world may come to 
pray. 

But around us, spiritual battles are fought. No 
man going through that war, will be as he has been. 
In the very nature of things, he must be greatly bet- 
ter or greatly worse. Smile as we may, at the quaint 



154 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

remarks and inappropriate responses, there is some- 
thing here at which we dare not smile ; for here is 
strength like that which has made martyrs. If once 
you allow yourself to be swept with the current by 
this tempest of emotion, you will not feel like smiling. 
Eternity will loom before you, the mysterious and 
unfathomable. Earth will shrink into very nothing- 
ness beneath your feet. Hell will open fiery jaws 
and innumerable devils will send forth a hungry 
howl for your lean soul. And you — you will trem- 
ble, and all God's lightnings and the thunders of 
His wrath will be let loose upon you ; and then when 
if you could, you would be saying, " Me, miserable ! 
which way shall I fly ? Which way I fly is hell. 
Myself am hell, and in the lowest depths, a lower 
deep still threatening to devour me, opens wide " — 
then there is a hush as when the " Peace, be still !" 
was spoken to the boisterous waves of Galilee, and 
you are told of pardon, love and Christ. Perhaps 
the hymn is sung — 

" Depths of mercy can there be 
Mercy still reserved for me ?" 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. I 5 5 

Well, you are expected to be " converted " then." 
Whether you think you are or not, and what you do 
afterwards, depends much upon your temperament. 
If you do arise from your knees, feeling that you are 
a *' new man in Christ Jesus," you should live a new 
life, a beautiful, noble life ; for it must be true that 
in all that excitement and notwithstanding it all, 
the " still, small voice " of God has spoken to your 
soul and bade it live. If instead of light, despair 
comes to you, till you conclude you have " sinned 
away your day of grace," you are greatly mistaken, 
but your grief is very pitiable. If you do not sink 
utterly under this despair, by the next day you feel 
that you have been in a spiritual intoxication, and 
you suffer a severe, spiritual ache — heartache if you 
will — which must just as naturally follow the spirit- 
ual intoxication, as headache follows drunkenness. 
When you understand a little soul-logic, you will not 
be as ready to think God has deserted you, or that 
He has loudly spoken to you, but you will be sure 
He is always helping the man who is earnestly striv- 
ing to do right. 



156 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

The saddest result is, that feelings worked upon 
thus powerfully, are never so easily aroused again. 
With more than usual possibility of good, there is 
corresponding possibility of evil. Every time a man 
is led to mourn over his sins, and not so led to 
mourn over them as to forsake them, he is hardened 
by it. Hence we see the folly of those who are 
always trying to move to tears, and then congratulate 
themselves because of the good they have accom- 
plished. It is not the time in the midst of a battle 
to exult over the victory. It is a thing of no little 
responsibility to touch the springs of human feelings, 
which often actuate the life and which only once, 
can be moved by a touch so light. Many a man 
goes from the earnest meeting where souls are 
prayed for, worse than he was before. His own 
fault, you say .? Yes, in part, but not altogether. 
We must learn to understand more about man's spir- 
itual life before we try experiments with it. We do 
not let bunglers tune our pianos ; but every one 
thinks he can tune the "harp of a thousand strings," 
and tune it for eternity. If only we might learn 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. I 57 

wisdom before, in mistaken zeal, we have harmed 
immortal souls ! 

But while we have been philosophizing, men 
around us have been praying. Now the benediction 
is said, and the echo of its peace lingers in our 
hearts. We are better and stronger because of the 
unquestioning trust and earnest prayers, the zealous 
work and holy lives of some of these Methodists. 



158 IV A YSIDE 1 EA VE S. 



THE PATHOS OF COMMON LIVES. 



ACH sou], with its joys and griefs, its ambi- 



I] tions and regrets, its friendships and loves, 
its idols and their graves, is a history " where God 
himself writes," and which He alone can truly read. 

Now as of old, the world staggers beneath " its 
convex weight of crime," and through the years its 
cries and prayers besiege high heaven for aid. We, 
who would cross the seas to view the ruins of the old 
world, walk every day among the grander, sadder 
wrecks of human souls, and perceive them not. We 
might know, but we close our eyes, and fold our 
hands, and will not be our "brother's keeper." 
There is much that proves our '' brotherhood " with 
all mankind. 

We all have our gala-days in the enchanting land 
of dreams. At some time, we each have access to 
the fairy's wand. Too soon the wand loses its magic. 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. I 59 

The gates of gold grow dim. We wander from the 
ideal to the real. Many voices call in many ways. 
We are surrounded alike by angels and by demons. 

The recompenses come. We do not always 
recognize them or know whence they are. Our good 
deeds bless our own hearts. Our evil comes home 
to lodge with us. We curse our fate, and do not 
realize we ourselves have made that fate. "For_y^ 
give to every thread its hue, and elect your destiny." 

When the dream-life is dead, we treasure its me- 
mentoes. Somewhere, sometime, we have laid away 
withered flowers, flowers that were sparkling with our 
tears in place of the morning dew. We have burned 
letters, when with them earth's brightest dreams 
were turned to ashes. The time comes when lips 
that do not tremble, say " It is all for the best. I 
can see now the fancy was an idle one." Yet none 
the less, the hope was beautiful and it left a bitter 
pain when it died. Unrecognized, denied, in the 
very heart of hearts, that sense of loss remains for- 
ever. Knowledge of good is " bought dear by know- 
ing ill." 



l6o WAYSIDE LEAVES. 

In a man's own eyes, his life can never be an 
ordinary thing. There are times when apple-blos- 
soms hide the common clay on which he walks. If 
only he had lived worthy of his vision ! The strength 
gained on the heights should help one to walk the 
better when in life's valleys. It is hard to live life's 
prose. It is sad to see apples of Hesperides change 
to ashes in the eager grasp. 

Only uncommon lives have learned to make of 
untoward things the steps whereby to climb. Com- 
mon lives always feel the hurt of a cramping fate 
that, turning upon them, clutches them in iron grasp 
and holds them to the earth. There are those who 
go thirsting all their lives, and die at last unsatisfied. 
Their souls will never let them be content with mere 
physical lives, yet for them the material shuts out the 
spiritual. They weary of their distasteful work, but 
must work on. To some poverty comes — the wolf that 
gnaws the heart. Disease comes and in the midst 
of work undone, folds the weak hands that have 
already borne too heavy burdens. Daily life brings 
much fret and wear to the soul ; unkind remarks, 



IVA YSIDE LEA VES. l6l 

looks meaning more than Avords, little jealousies 
and envyings, quarrels that spring from very nothing- 
ness, and the never-ceasing effort to hide the old, 
old skeleton in the closet. Some live in an atmos- 
phere of petty vexations ; mosquitoes that drain dry 
the spiritual blood, and leave only nerves. Our sor- 
rows are often of our own making. Granted ; but 
our chains are only the more galling when we have 
forged them for ourselves. 

Separations come to all. The good-byes mean 
much. It came from the longing for a protecting 
care to follow the dear ones going beyond our ken, 
that our farewell words are " God be with you !" and 
"a Dieu !" We say good-bye to the familiar home- 
steads from which the miles must separate us, and 
to the hearts on which we leaned, from whom comes 
longer parting. We clasp cold hands in farewell, 
when the Angel of Death has spoken and will have 
his way. Always, although long expected, death 
comes suddenly at last, leaving some kind word we 
meant to say, forever unsaid ; some kind deed we 
meant to do, forever undone. We pause in our 



1 62 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

Avork to place flowers in the caskets. We give unan- 
swered kisses, and we wonder why in the busy walks 
of life we found so little time for tenderness. 

Then the graves are filled and the sun shines on. 
We go our way and forget to be more loving to the 
living. Yet, oh ! the tears we weep, when tears are 
unavailing. We cannot get away from ourselves or 
from the underlying sadness of our hearts. A rainy 
day, a moaning \vind, a withered flower bud, find an 
answering sadness in our souls. We recognize 
Nature's sorrowful sights and sounds, as true expres- 
sions of our lives. We try to prove that we are 
happy, and we show thereby that proof is needed. 
One who tries to prove to his own heart that he 
loves, is very near not loving. One who tries to 
prove his joy, holds but its counterfeit. 

There are times when a great flood of bitterness 
sweeps over us. If v/e are weak, we cry out. The 
world wonders for an instant, why we cried, and 
seeks to find the cause without^ which can only be 
found within our hearts. If we are strong, we wait. 

Great souls can express the longings which com- 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 63 

mon ones must feel in silence. When a dog looks 
at you with great, dumb, yearning eyes, you pity 
him because he cannot speak. Many souls have less 
power than he to express their deepest thoughts. 
Their every attempt veils or misrepresents their 
truest selves. 

One has his days in dream-land and in wonder- 
land. Not far removed is the world of love. We 
all walk its enchanted paths sometimes, and name 
it — Paradise. For us all the white wings hover in 
the upper air till earth is purified and life is glorified. 
Too soon the angels vanish and the roses wither. 
Yet true love is eternal. If it is more common to 
miss the true love than to find it, it is another sign 
that it is common for man to fail of the happiness 
meant for him. 

Our friendships bring their share of pathos. One 
makes many friends in youth and idealizes them all. 
Time, distance, death, take them one-by-one. Life 
may fill the vacant chairs, but cannot fill the vacant 
hearts. One seldom makes new friends when the 
days of youth are over. What will we not do for 



164 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

our friends ! It is said this is a very selfish world, 
yet every day, if one looks for them, he may find 
noble deeds of voluntary sacrifice. Humanity 
fallen, humanity grovelling in the dust, with its 
angel wings (if it ever had them) irrevocably clipped, 
does acts of heroism worthy of the gods. 

Those who have missed life's happiest chances, 
dream their dreams over for their children ; but the 
children go their own way ; some heavenward, some 
earthward ; and often at last the mother is left alone 
to sing her song of an " empty nest," 

Happy are they who, through all the various deeds 
and circumstances of their lives, can see a unity of 
plan working out for them eternal good. In most 
of us the plan has bsen so thwarted, we cannot see 
our lives as a unit. We can only see separate days 
standing out as separate facts for the making or the 
marring of one another. The plan lost, there still is 
this to hope, that the pattern of some other life may 
be more beautiful because of the gleams of brightness 
caught from our lives. If some one standing by our 
grave, can say in all sincerity, " I live a better life to- 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 65 

day, because this friend of mine has lived and worked 
and suffered," our life will not have been all loss. 

And after this life, heaven ! This is the key-note 
of many of the better lives of earth. They hope the 
work that shows so little of the earthly gain, will 
measure the more by the heavenly computation. It 
may be these common lives, so full of heart-yearn- 
ings, known only to themselves and to the All-Father 
— these lives so stinted and so meagre here — will 
reach out there for what they missed on earth, and 
the vastness of heaven will compensate for earth's 
narrowness, and for earth's poverty, heaven's riches. 

But not all look up toward heaven. We cast our 
questions down the deep of new-made graves, and no 
echo comes to us from the abyss. What if there is a 
loss for which eternity has no atonement } Wliat if 
man has the power to close heaven's doors upon his 
soul, and no higher power can save him from the 
long shadow of his sin ! Ah ! if there is no remedy 
for sin-wrecked souls, the defeat of one immortal 
spirit is sad enough to send its wail of anguish clash- 
ing eternally with all the hallelujahs of the blessed. 



1 66 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

Strange how full of sunshine and of smiles, the 
old world is ! It smiled at first in its innocent child- 
hood ; afterwards, with eyes filled with bitter tears, 
it chose to smile instead of weep. So as we walk 
among dead hopes, we smile on, and the world smiles 
on ; and there is pathos in this smiling. If it were 
all we could do, it would be true heroism. But for 
too long our love to our friends has been shown 
chiefly in building their monuments, and our love to 
their souls in smiling at their ruin. 

How many beautiful things each one of us has 
seen ! How many golden sunsets ! How many 
glorious sunrises ! And all this beauty has been an 
appeal from God to the heart to lift it above sordid 
things and make it pure. In the effulgence stray 
blossoms have appeared — bits of verse, glowing words 
— that in the short-lived glory, stamped some com- 
mon soul with genius. Is not this lonely blossoming 
a foreshadowing of the abundant bloom to be, when 
the great Gardener shall have transplanted this sen- 
sitive plant to the heavenly garden ? 

Think of the spiritual life of souls ! Think of 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 67 

the prayers ever striving to surround and to protect 
some hearts from the world's sin ! Think of the 
Divine love reaching down responsive to the adoring 
love ascending from human hearts to heaven ! How 
grand is the possible life of every soul ! 

There is a deep pathos in the " Ifs " of life. We 
say ''if" and on that foundation build earth and 
heaven. From the despairing cry " If thou hadst been 
here, my brother had not died," even down to the '' ifs" 
of our everyday life, there is a sorrow beyond words. 
The sentence begun with an " if" cannot be wrought 
out in real life, till " if " gives place to certainty. 

After the blessings, heart-aches, wars without and 
wars within, what then ? After one has left his work 
here incomplete, what then } What comes when 
earth has failed us ? Will there be new treasures for 
empty hearts ? Will there be new work for empty 
hands ? Can ashes bring forth flowers again } Can 
the weary find the perfect rest ? The gate that opens 
out to other worlds, hangs on an " if," and 

" Hearts cry — 'God be pitiful,' 

Who ne'er said — ' God be praised !* " 



1 68 JVA YSIDE lb: A VES. 



ONE WOMAN'S LIFE. 

ARGARET MERTON was sitting on the 
door-step in the sunshine. Her thoughts were 
" long, long thoughts," reaching from childhood out 
and on to the Forever. She was looking at the low 
range of hills that shut her in, that had always shut 
her in from the great outer world. She had dreamed 
and planned much, but her dreams were faded, her 
plans were broken, her life was a failure. So she 
said to herself, while the sunlight fell upon her and 
the birds sang around her. She was very young to 
say that. We have scarcely lived years enough at 
seventeen to have wrecked all of life. 

Her mother's voice called her, " Margaret, Mar- 
garet," and with the shadow still upon her face and 
in her heart, she prepared the simple meal for two. 
Only two in the little brown cottage now ! Time 
was when that house had resounded to the tread of 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. 1 69 

child-feet, and child-laughter had echoed through 
those quiet rooms. One by one the laughing voices 
had been stilled ; one by one the sparkling eyes had 
been dimmed, and the little hands been frozen in 
death's clasp ; one by one the new graves had been 
made in the churchyard. Six little graves were 
there and one marked by a higher monument, for 
Mrs. Merton was a widow, and Margaret was fath- 
erless. 

In the years of sickness, the little property Mr. 
Merton had accumulated soon vanished, and now 
Margaret supported herself and her feeble mother 
by teaching the village school at six dollars per 
week. 

Mrs. Merton was a blessed woman, for all her 
sorrows had only written " Peace " upon her soul. 
Through her mother's self-denial, Margaret, who had 
always been accounted the brightest pupil of the 
village school, had enjoyed one year of tuition at an 
excellent academy in an adjoining town. When 
Mrs. Merton's health failed, it was Margaret's turn 
to practice self-denial. It cost her much pain to 



I/O IVA YSIDE LEA VES. 

give up her loved studies and engage in helping 
others to places where they might climb above her 
on the hill of science. She had not learned to be 
unselfish yet. It wounded her pride, because she 
must teach for half the pay a man would have 
received. In the fall, a severer blow came, for her 
school was taken from her, and the committee tried 
to soften the trial by saying, "As we have always 
employed a gentleman in the winter, I would not 
like to deviate from the old custom. You have 
given satisfaction, and if a woman could fill the 
place, I would engage you ; but we need some one who 
can take an active part in the temperance societies 
and prayer-meetings." Thus early, Margaret met 
some of woman's wrongs, and they embittered her 
life. Nor had she found the peace that comes 
from doing one's best, with the duties that lie near- 
est ; till God's voice calls higher. Margaret braided 
whips all winter, working in a factory two miles 
away. In the spring she taught again, and thus a 
year passed by. 

Before the brilliancy had faded from the October 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 7 1 

leaves, another grave was in the churchyard, and 
Margaret was motherless. The last words the mother 
had spoken, were to her, " God give thee His rest, 
my child." 

In Margaret's first grief, she thought only of the 
rest which quiet church-yards bring to the weary 
dead, in the stillness of that " low, green tent, whose 
curtain never outward swings." 

From her window she watched the shadows 
gather till the stars shone on her mother's grave. 
All night she sat alone in the darkness, thinking of 
the gentle presence she must miss now through all 
the years, and wishing bitterly that one little hour of 
the past might be relived. One volume of her life 
was closed, sealed and laid away forever. No line 
could be erased now, no blot removed. But the 
future may be better for her tears. 

Even the little brown cottage did not belong to 
Margaret. She was free to try the outer world now. 
She found a larger school with better pay, in Well- 
in gford. 

A pastor's blessing went with her, and his warning 



I J 2 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

that she should "mark life's success not by the 
world's esteem, but by the smile of God." 

Margaret's ambitious plans returned to her, and 
she managed every way to save expense, that she 
might enjoy the advantages of a higher education. 
And she succeeded. One always succeeds in one 
plan, if he makes all others bow before it. Success 
is sure to those who sacrifice enough. And some 
have sacrificed too much upon unworthy altars. 

Margaret boarded herself, hiring a room of Mrs. 
Mullen, a gentle widowed lady who lived half a mile 
from the school. 

In counting the cost, there was one thing which 
Margaret did not take into consideration — the utter 
loneliness of a stranger in an unknown town. No 
one called upon her, no one visited her school ; even 
the children laughed at her economies, seeing them 
and not seeing the underlying motive. 

Yet the winter before, when Mr. Benson appeared 
with threadbare coat, kept house by himself in an 
attic, taught by day and studied by night, that he 
might '* work his way through college," all Welling- 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1/3 

ford arose to do him honor. He was a self-made 
man and a hero. 

But Margaret, she was a woman, and why could 
she not be satisfied with her village school and social 
amusements till she was ready to marry and settle 
down ? What did she need of higher education ? 
And thus her love of study, and her longing for the 
riches of knowledge, were unappreciated and blamed 
because she was a woman ! 

One night when Margaret, more tired than usual, 
paused a moment in Mrs. Mullen's room to warm 
her numbed fingers, that lady persuaded her to pass 
the evening there. After tea, Mrs. Mullen took a 
seat by Margaret, and said in her gentle way, " My 
dear, I have long wished to take the liberty of talk- 
ing with you, of counseling you, as your mother 
would if she were with you." 

" My mother is dead," said Margaret coldly. 
She was afraid to trust herself to use a milder tone, 
lest the quick tears should spring uncalled to her 
eyes. 

"Poor child," said Mrs. Mullen, "but perhaps 



174 ^^ YSIDE LEA VES. 

you need me the more. May I speak to you freely 
this once ?" 

'' Say what you please," said Margaret in a listless 
way that certainly was not very encouraging, but 
Mrs, Mullen was not waiting for encouragement. 
She was only wishing for the opportunity of doing 
good. 

" Then my child, it appears to me that you are 
missing what you might have of blessedness and 
rest." 

" Rest," echoed Margaret, " There is no rest for 
me." 

Mrs. Mullen repeated softly — 

'' Rest is not quitting 
The busy career. 
Rest is the fitting 
Of self to one's sphere." 

"But," objected Margaret, "it is often impossi- 
ble to do that. I have never found my place in the 
world yet, and I do not believe I ever shall." 

" Have you ever done your best in any place ?" 
Margaret was silent, but her conscience said " no!" 



IFA YSIDE LEA VES. 1/5 

Mrs. Mullen continued, " In this life, we do not 
always realize our brightest dreams, or in realizing 
them we find their brightness faded. It is well for us 
to work earnestly, faithfully and perseveringly, in order 
to accomplish what seems the mission of our lives. 
But having done our best, let us leave results to 
God. Meanwhile we should not forget or neglect 
one little daily duty that comes to us," 

Margaret answered bitterly, but Mrs. Mullen 
said, " Sometimes success is a sadder thing than 
failure. Sometimes the way is dark that we may see 
more clearly the light beyond the way." 

Margaret had overworked, and a long illness 
came to her. Mrs. Mullen cared for her even as a 
mother. Mr. Benson finished the winter term. 
Margaret wondered if it was because he, having ten 
talents had improved them all, that her one work 
was taken from her and given to him. 

Everybody loved Mr. Benson. He was thought- 
ful, unselfish and truly good. He made all good 
things lovable and beautiful. What wonder that 
Margaret learned to love him ? He loved her too. 



I "/^ WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

and showed her the ideal womanhood to which she 
might attain. By his love, her life was glorified. 
The days went on and her impatient, restless heart 
was growing into calm. Was she finding the "rest," 
for which her mother had prayed ? Ah ! that rest 
comes only from heaven. 

Happier years followed. Margaret taught in the 
summers and studied through the winters. In six 
years she had received two well-earned diplomas and 
had graduated twice with highest honors. People 
wondered that she could accomplish so much. Mar- 
garet found many closed doors, but they were not 
locked ; and by her studious energy she made a way 
through them all. 

The world, too, had been Margaret's teacher. 
And now, in all that makes the cultured, refined lady, 
in all that helps the teacher to exercise unending 
power over the young mind and heart, Margaret ex- 
celled. 

Yes, Margaret has grown in these years, and yet 
— and yet — why must there always be an " and yet " 
to mar the history of our lives } 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. IJJ 

Margaret has been helped by a strong, true, 
manly love. Why should she make an idol of her 
love ? 

"God keeps a niche in heaven to hold our idols. 
Albeit He brake them to our faces, lest our soft 
kisses should impair their white." When word came 
to Margaret *' He is dead," for such word did come, 
the whole earth seemed to swing away from beneath 
her feet and to leave her soul alone in the utter deso- 
lation. Life before her seemed a blank ; behind her 
a wreck. 

Weeks afterwards, when the first spring flowers 
had blossomed on his grave, she aroused herself to 
duty. Her heart was very sad, but the Healer had 
been there, and there was no impatience now as she 
undertook to do alone a woman's life-work in the 
world. The way was very dark, but in the darkness, 
the mother's prayer was answered — " God give thee 
His rest, my child." 

Not answered as the mother had hoped, speedily 
and in the light of happy days. Margaret had re- 
fused to learn that way. Slowly, through long, sad 



178 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

years, she learned life's deepest lessons. The sad- 
ness never after left her eyes, but the unrest van- 
ished from her heart. 

For four years Margaret taught a high school. 
Then as money and reputation grew she founded a 
seminary for young ladies. Tenderly and sympa- 
thizingly as a mother, she watched over the young 
girls committed to her care. 

The weak went to her for strength, the sorrow- 
ing, for comfort. Her own griefs had given her the 
key to other hearts. It was worth all she had suf- 
fered to be thus able to lead young lives into the 
paths of blessedness. The time came when she 
could believe that. 

The years went on. The girls she had taught 
were some of them in happy homes around her, some 
teaching, some missionaries across the sea. Some 
with pale hands folded, had early said their fare- 
wells to the earth. Wherever the pupils were in the 
wide world, her love reached out to them. Where- 
ever they went, there followed them the unconscious 
influence of her life. 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. 1 79 

Was it because her dream was all read and sealed 
long ago, that thus, self-forgetful, she could enter 
into the dreamings of young girls ? Was it because 
she had suffered that she could so calmly lift to her 
own shoulders the burden of others' woes ? So these 
young girls questioned as girls will question, but the 
only answer was the patient answer of her life. Yet 
they learned afterwards that only those who have 
wrestled valiantly with the evil, can attain unto the 
powerful good ; and so with the perfectness of the 
victory, was read something of the struggle of the 
battle. 

Margaret had no confidant in the world. She 
learned to help herself by helping others, and she grew 
to the stature of a self-reliant woman. Self-reliant — 
that in its highest, truest sense, means God-reliant. 

Ten more years passed away, and Margaret's 
work was completed. The girls felt that their dear- 
est friend was leaving them. She had cared for some 
of them through weary days of pain. She had led 
them all to the riches of wisdom. All their lives 
had been blessed bv her life. 



1 80 IVJ YSIDE LEA V£S. 

Fair flowers were placed in her hands, and 
among the blossoms there was a tiny locket of gold. 
She had held it when she died, and her friends, rev- 
erencing the sacredness of her grief, left it there with 
her. They had never seen the pictured face within. 
To her it had been a talisman, filling her life with 
good. She had often looked at it, whisi:)ering to 
herself, " He will love me there," with a child-like 
trust that only came to her when childhood had de- 
parted, 

A company of girls, robed in white, stood around 
her grave and almost filled it with flowers. Then 
they returned with quiet steps to the seminary her 
presence had blessed so long. Her presence seemed 
still to remain there as a silent benediction, bringing 
good. 

Margaret Merton had not amassed much money 
in her life, for she had always given freely of it to 
any whose need was greater than her own. What 
was left was divided into scholarships for poor girls, 
struggling for an education. 

A monument of purest marble, stands at Marga- 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 8 1 

ret's grave — raised there by her pupils to show their 
love for her. On it is written only 

Margaret Merton, 

aged 39. 

God Hath Given Her Rest. 

More enduring than the marble is the monument 
erected in many hearts and lives — a monument in- 
scribed Avith tributes of grateful souls to her, who in 
guiding aright her own life, led many souls to peace. 

Not by the beautiful monument above her grave, 
not by the multitudes that gathered there, nor by the 
eulogies bestowed so freely, but by the silent resolves 
of many hearts to make life beautiful, the earnest 
strivings to follow her footsteps heavenward, and 
most of all by the power of the rest she found ; it 
was proved that Margaret Merton did not live in 
vain. 



1 82 IV A YSWE LEA VES. 



MINNIE'S DREAM. 



T was one of October's perfect days. The 
good fairies had woven the summer sunshine 
into the beautiful autumn leaves. The merry chil- 
dren were playing under the grand old trees, and 
their faces, too, were full of sunshine. The light 
sparkled from their eyes and came in laughing words 
from their rosy lips. 

An old man walked by, and sighed when he saw 
the little ones, for he was in the shadow. When he 
was a child, he stood where two roads meet, the 
Right and Wrong. They were near each other, so 
he chose the one where brightest flowers were bloom- 
ing, and he did not heed the voices that said " Choose 
Right, my child." The wrong road grew hard and 
thorny as he traveled it, but he could not retrace the 
false steps he had taken, and he feared to enter the 
fields that stretched a weary length between him and 



IVA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 83 

the way of Right. Yet he was sorry — sorry. When 
he looked up, the sky did not seem so bkie, or the 
light so bright or God so near, as in the earlier, 
better days. Life was a poor, unsatisfying thing to 
him, because he had chosen the Wrong. It was too 
late for the old man, tottering by, to take the sorrow 
and the sin out of his earthly life ; but the children, 
the happy children playing in the grand old woods 
— it was not too late for them to fill their lives with 
heaven's own sunshine. 

Yet contentious voices sounded before the day 
was gone, and Minnie, the chosen autumn-queen, 
wandered away from the others to rest by the sing- 
ing rivulet. There lulled by the music, she fell 
asleep, and her troubled thoughts wove themselves 
into a wondrous dream. 

She entered a beautiful palace where the fairies 
danced and played. She rested on a couch of autumn 
leaves. The fairy queen near by, played sweet 
tunes upon a harp of pine leaves which was so large 
it took six fairies to lift it. 

When Minnie asked what world it was, the queen 



^ 84 IVA YSIDE LEA VES. 

answered *' This is the entrance of Fairy Land. We 
are happy here, for we keep the Golden Rule." 

" The Golden Rule ! What is it ?" asked Minnie 
wearily, for it seemed hard for her to think. 

The queen continued, "'' There is war in your 
world. The Rules fight for the ascendency. The 
Golden Rule is taught by the wisest and the best, 
but there are some hearts that will not listen to the 
teaching." 

Then the queen fixed her sharp eyes on Minnie, 
who moved uneasily, and finally said, " I came for 
my crown of autumn leaves. Will you give me my 
crown, please, fairy, for I, too, am a queen." 

The fairy queen replied, " I have something to 
show you first. Come with me." 

Together they glided through palace after palace 
till they came to a room from which they saw the 
stars. This was the queen's observatory. The 
queen said, " All these stars seem alike beautiful to 
you, but on some the shadow has fallen. We will 
visit that one," and the queen pointed to a beautiful 
star that shone brightly in the sky. 



IVA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 85 

Minnie found herself wafted quickly through 
great space, while the star-lights went out one by 
one, and this star loomed up before her, a great, 
black world. The queen enveloped Minnie in a robe 
which made her invisible, and then said, " This is 
the world of the Iron Rule. Explore it, and I will 
come for you soon." 

When Minnie was alone, she wandered silently 
over the darkened world. The ground was hard and 
the grass brown. In the street two boys were play- 
ing. One rushed against the other and hard blows 
followed ; then one killed the other. A man came 
and killed the remaining boy. Other men came and 
there was deadly battle throughout the city. The 
houses were burned and there was great desolation. 
Minnie called for help, but none heard her and there 
was none to save. Saddened at heart, she turned 
away, and the wind carried her to what was once a 
church, but now it was only a pile of ruins. There 
an old man knelt alone and prayed, '' God give us 
again peace and plenty in the land !" 



1 86 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

A voice from the skies replied, " There is no 
peace, saith the Lord, for the wicked." 

The old man kneeled still lower on the ground, 
and said, " I love Thy Peace." 

The voice answered, " If thou bring thy gift to 
the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother 
hath aught against thee, leave there thy gift before 
the altar, and go thy way ; first be reconciled to thy 
brother and then come and offer thy gift." 

The old man beat his breast and cried " Alas ! 
I have slain my brother." The brand of Cain was 
on his soul, and he fled into the wilderness. 

The winds carried Minnie onward till she came 
to a black ocean. A bridge stretched over it 
towards the skies. Men had struggled to the bridge, 
and women and little children were walking on it. 
There they fought desperately and some fell into the 
dark sea. Then one arose and burned the bridge, 
and all fell together into the darkness, and a voice 
said, " He who refuses to forgive, breaks the bridge 
over which he must himself pass, for all have need to 
be forgiven." 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 18/ 

The world was shrouded in darkness, and Min- 
nie wept over its mighty woes. The fairy queen 
came then, saying only " Have you seen enough ?" 

Minnie answered " Oh, too much ! Please take 
me from this terrible place." 

In an instant they were again in the queen's ob- 
servatory. The queen said sadly, " That is in truth 
a fallen world, yet not many centuries ago, as men 
reckon, it was a glorious world, lighted by the beau- 
tiful sun and resplendent at night with many stars. 
Forgiveness was queen then, and she taught the peo- 
ple the Golden Rule which she had learned in heaven. 
Revenge saw that the world was brighter than his 
domains, and he determined to snatch it from For- 
giveness. Forgiveness appealed to Justice who said 
" The world is yours by right, but if you keep it, you 
will have to fight for it, for Revenge is mighty. For- 
giveness did not wish to fight, but she sent her plead- 
ers to every heart to beg that the door might be for- 
ever closed against Revenge. The pleaders went 
forth and there was war in that bright world, and the 
first battle-ground was the heart of a child, and— 
Revenge conquered." 



1 88 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

Here the fairy paused to weep. She went on at 
last. " The pleaders worked in vain, and all hearts 
were opened to Revenge. Desolation followed, for 
where no Forgiveness is, there is no pity, no pardon, 
no hope for the erring. Lives once ruined are 
ruined forever. This is the Iron Rule, " Life for life, 
eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for 
foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe 
for stripe." Revenge wears it stamped upon her 
crown. 

Minnie asked sadly '' Has Revenge gained many 
worlds ?" 

For answer, the queen fairy only wept. 

Minnie wept too, till the fairy said, '' Now we will 
visit a world where Forgiveness reigns," 

Listantly they were in a land of light and beauty. 
All the animals were tame and the lions rested with 
the lambs. The children played with the wolves, 
caressing them. The air was full of the music of 
gentle words, and the world was full of the love of 
happy hearts. Sometimes men misunderstood each 
other, and without meaning it, did harm ; but ere the 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 89 

sun went down, friendly hands were clasped in love. 
Vines climbed about the churches and flowers grew 
by the door. There many met to worship and to 
pray — " Forgive us our debts as we forgive our 
debtors," for to them it was not a curse to pray that 
prayer. 

They sang — 

" Oh, brother-man, fold to thy heart thy brother, 
Where Pity dwells, the love of God is there, 
To worship rightly is to love each other, 
Each smile, a hymn ; each kindly deed, a prayer.' 

The flowers smiled brightly, the faces looked up 
hopefully, and all souls were filled with peace. 

Minnie was wafted along till she saw a bridge, 
reaching above deep waters to the skies. Calmly and 
trustingly, the people passed over it, and the bright 
clouds hid them forever from her sight, Minnie, 
looking, said, "I think this bridge leads to Heaven." 

Some must have heard her, for many eyes looked 
upward, and an aged man replied, " Yes, the bridge 
of Forgiveness leads to Heaven," 

While Minnie watched the passers on the bridge, 



190 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

the fairy queen came, asking again, '' Have you seen 
enough ?" 

Minnie answered, ''No, indeed, I never can tire 
of this beautiful world. I wish it were my home." 

The fairy frowned as she said, " You do not de- 
serve so fair a home as this. Come with me." 

Again they entered the fairy-palace and Minnie 
rested on the autumn leaves. The fairy said, '' For- 
giveness has always held that realm, and every year 
it grows more beautiful. She governs by the Golden 
Rule. But rest now, for we must take another jour- 
ney soon." 

Minnie seemed to sleep again, and to awaken in 
another world. It too was beautiful. Its leaves of 
red and gold glittered in the sunbeams. The squir- 
rels were busily and happily carrying large nuts to 
their winter-homes. Minnie saw bright-eyed chil- 
dren too, but the words she heard were words of 
strife. In a pained voice she asked, " Who governs 
this fair world ?" 

The fairy answered, " By the holy cross it was 
redeemed through Forgiveness, yet Revenge still 



WAYSIDE LEAVES. I9I 

claims it, and the battle-field is in the heart of man. 
Every heart yielded to Rvenge, helps to drive For- 
giveness from the world, and to destroy the angel- 
song of " Peace on earth, good-will toward men." 

As the fairy and the child passed on, they came 
to dim woods that Minnie knew, and she exclaimed, 
"Why, this is the dear, old earth-world. Fairy, I 
am glad you have brought me home again. I will tell 
all my friends to open their hearts to the pleaders of 
Forgiveness." 

The fairy said, " Open your own heart first, my 
child, and then you can teach others." 

Then the fairy gave Minnie a magic glass, and 
through it she could look at people's hearts, and 
read the purpose of their lives. 

She could read the past too, and could see the 
deep marks of the sins that were unforgiven. Some 
men carried a cross and some a sword. Minnie was 
often sadly surprised to read on pure, white fore- 
heads, words dark with sin, and to behold in deep, 
beautiful eyes, thoughts that made her shudder. 

"Sin has already marred the choicest beauties 



192 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

of this earth," said the fairy, "and Revenge is one of 
his greatest warriors. The sword is the emblem of 
Revenge. The cross is the symbol of Forgiveness. 
At first it appears an unseemly thing, but soon it is 
encircled by the fair flowers of human kindness, 
human love and the Divine helpfulness and blessing, 
for '^ Heaven means crowned, not conquered, when 
it says ' Forgiven.' " 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 93 





1 



BUILDING TO OVERTHROW. 

ITTLE Jamie was on the floor building palaces 
of blocks. Very carefully he arranged them in 
their places, balancing them that they might not fall. 
Yet before any one had time to admire his finished 
work, he overthrew it all with one blow of his little 
hand. In an instant the ruin was wrought, and 
Jamie's shout of joy was more triumphant over the 
swift destruction than over the slow and patient 
building. 

Jamie's father was building too : slowly and 
surely building for himself a home that should be a 
place of refuge and of rest. No danger that he would 
attempt to overthrow his work. Jamie told the rea- 
son, " Mine is only play-building you know, but 
papa's is real earnest building, and he must not 

make it fall. 

Mothers, teachers, writers, we are building, and 

ours is real, earnest work. Our words are worse 



194 ^VA YSIDE LEA VES. 

than vain, unless our lifework corresponds. We are 
laboring not for days alone, not for years alone, but 
for eternity. Yet too often, we build carelessly and 
overthrow our work hastily, as though it were play- 
work of our own, instead of real work for the Master 
Architect. 



WA VSIDE LEA VES. 1 95 



THE THOUGHT-GLEANERS. 




HILE wandering through the far reaching 
II reahiis of the mind, I saw many enclosures 
called " Gardens of Thought." One garden was a 
beautiful valley, enclosed by flower-banks near its 
gateway, and in the distance by majestic mountains 
The Goddess of Poetry presided here. There were 
many gleaners in the garden, attracted by its beauty. 
The Goddess assigned their places, some on vine-clad 
banks, and some where the flowers withered as soon 
as they were gathered. 

The gleaners chose their flowers and arranged 
their garlands. Some were not skilled to find un- 
fading blossoms, and some could not arrange them 
well ; yet I noticed that those whose work was the 
best, usually seemed least satisfied. Some laid the 
flowers together carelessly, and beauty grew without 
efi^ort from their deft fingers. These usually sang as 



ig6 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 

they worked. Some arranged and rearranged their 
garlands, sometimes not completing them till half 
their flowers were withered. 

Some were blind, and gathered weeds for blos- 
soms. 

Some stole the flowers of others. 

Some assisted others in their work. 

Many reclined lazily among the flowers, and for- 
got to work, till the sun was set, and the unfinished 
wreath had fallen from their grasp. 

Some flowers that grew the brightest, had been 
watered by tears. 

There were many helpers in the garden ; but all 
save Rhetoric were unfair ; doing much for their 
favorites, and very little for the rest. 

Rhetoric aided impartially all who would receive 
her help. But she was of terrestrial origin and of 
sober mien ; and some would not ask her aid. 
She arranged the framework of the garlands, and ad- 
vised when it was best to gather the flowers. For 
some blossoms had to be culled in the bud for their 
most wonderful beauty, while others were more 



IV A YSIDE LEA VES. 1 97 

lovely in their blossoming time ; and a few were ex- 
quisite with their feathery seeds. Some were helped 
by cultivation ; and Rhetoric knew all the rules for 
the culture of flowers. But it must be confessed 
that she did not understand wild-flowers very well, 
and sometimes in her rude handling, they lost the 
aroma of the woods. For this reason also, some of 
the gleaners feared Rhetoric. 

Nine sisters from Paradise wandered among the 
gleaners and helped them much. But these sisters 
would not deign even to look at some of the most 
persistent w^orkers. If only the shadow of these sis- 
ters fell upon the flowers, it made them blossom forth 
at once into new beauty. All the workers courted 
the attention of the muses, and there were gleaners 
who died of grief because their courting was in 
vain. Clio favored earnest workers, Euterpe and 
Terpsichore loved those best who smiled and sang. 
They helped wTeathe the blossoms in forms of lyres 
and harps. Melpomene preferred to garland leaves, 
Polyhymnia hovered near the weeping workers. 
Urania chose those who gathered star-flowers. These 



198 WAYSIDE LEAVES. 

sisters were as ready to help those who did not ask 
for aid and who received their gifts carelessly, as 
they were to assist those who were continually invok- 
ing their presence. Another helper in the garden, 
was Imagination. All sought her ; but she like the 
sisters was partial in her gifts. She had the fairy's 
wand and at its touch the world was filled with blos- 
soms. She was a prophet too and could see beyond 
the clouds. At her bidding, flowers sprang up with- 
out seed or root ; and while she was near they grew 
in perpetual beauty. She could bid weeds grow 
also, when she willed, and poisonous blossomings. 
The largest garlands were made by her help. The 
goddess of Poetry herself did reverence to this queen 
of flowers — Imagination. Sometimes when Imagina- 
tion prepared to depart, the largest blooms expanded 
into thin air, and nothing was left to show they had 
been beautiful. I pitied the workers whose flowers 
thus vanished. 

Many other helpers wandered to and fro among 
the gleaners. Metre walked with martial tread, 
measured the garlands and counted the flowers that 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 1 99 

made them. Rhyme taught a regular distribution of 
each species of flower. 

Not forever can the gleaners wreathe their gar- 
lands. In a time when they expect it not, they hear 
a voice from the entrance calling them away, and as 
they obey the summons, their garlands fall from 
their grasp. 

Through the valley of Poesy, flows the river of 
Time. On this river the garlands fall. Some are 
soon torn to pieces by the current, some stop in shel- 
tered harbors, some wither, some brighten ; a few 
are carried out into the broad ocean where they live 
forever. And he who has made a garland for 
Eternity, is crowned with Immortality in the Temple 
of Fame. 



200 WA YSIDE LEA VES. 



THE BURNING BUSH. 




UCH flaming bush as Moses saw, 
Our eager eyes behold to-day ; 
For while we look with wondering awe 
The summer glory comes this way. 

This common shrub we knew before, 

Is crowned with leaf and bud and flower ; 

The winter of its grief is o'er, 
And it has won a wealthy dower. 

Long time it waited in the chill 

Of frost and hail, of rain and snow ; 

Waited with patient heart until 

The summer flowers began to blow. 



WA YSIDE LEA VES. 20I 

To-day the ancient wonder see 

Of burning bush and unconsumed ; 

And note the old-time mystery 

Of boughs with ruby bloom illumed. 

For in this bush no less than when 
Meek Moses sought to hear the word, 

In all its glow to-day, as then, 

The still, small voice of God is heard. 



FINIS, 



